Impossible: The Fifth Hunger Games
by TheAmazingJAJ
Summary: Impossible is only in a dictionary for fools - Napoleon Bonaparte. Will our tributes achieve what seems to be the impossible, or will they sink into oblivion, never to return?
1. Joel Fletcher: Honour in Death

**Joel Fletcher, 14, District 10 Male**

 _I never thought it would be me who would be heading into the Hunger Games._

The escorts for District 10 always elaborated on the tremendous honour it would mean to be in the Hunger Games - _Don't worry, my dears, you've received the privilege of a lifetime! Now, let's wipe up those little tears, shall we? We want the cameras to catch your good side!_ \- but they never actually acknowledged the fact that the tributes were actually heading off to die.

 _I didn't want to die in the Hunger Games._

No one from my family had ever been touched by the Games themselves until today. The Hunger Games themselves were only in their fifth year, meaning that only eight tributes from District Ten actually had to go into the Games, but eight was still enough to cause a quarter of the District to bow their heads in respect as yet another twelve-year-old District 10 tribute was cut down in the bloodbath and say _"I knew their mother,"_ or _"I gave them a cracker one day."_

 _No one from District 10 had ever won the Hunger Games._

The other four victors were all from different Districts, but a couple of extra zealous kids hoped to become their District's first, or even better, second Victor. The first victor had come from District Six, a younger girl named Rosanna who had won by mercy killing the only remaining tribute. The second victor had come from District Two, a boy named Clay who had killed his highly bet on District partner in the final two to come out of the Coliseum he had fought in. The Capitol reportedly went wild with Roman designs that year, dressing up the tributes as gods and goddesses in the next interviews.

The third victor was a girl named Maddie, who came home to District Seven after slaughtering the boy from Twelve. No one blamed her for her brutal kill, however, as he was starting to feast on the remains of Maddie's district partner. The footage quickly cut off to the reaction of President Ember after Maddie started to peel the skin off of the boy's head in revenge.

The only other victory came from District Nine, a boy named Falcon. He had become known as the first true victor, as he managed to win what was called the first modern Hunger Games, with four kills under his belt. He also came out with a frostbitten hand, which was amputated shortly after. Nobody from the Districts would forget the way he won. He had been wandering aimlessly around the small arena, stumbling over frozen bodies and searching for the only other tribute, a little boy from District Ten, of all places, when he fell over the boy and accidentally stabbed the boy's leg. The cameras focused on the two for hours, the recovery crew waiting patiently until the little boy bled out. Falcon didn't come for his Victor's interview until three weeks after the arena. He was still shivering when President Ember placed the Victor's crown on his head.

 _Truthfully, I didn't expect to become a Victor._

I was part of a large family, living on the farm and helping out with the endless amounts of cattle that roamed through the barnyards. Though I had six other siblings, we were far from the largest family in the District. I knew the Mederces, and there were over fifteen children running around their farm. I had worked as hard as I could on the farm, stacking hay, - and reading books behind the stacks - feeding the cattle, - when I didn't blackmail Ben into doing it - and herding the cattle on long trips to large grazing pastures. Maybe I wasn't the most hard working kid on the farm, but I had my place, and that was always enough.

 _I never wanted to be in the Hunger Games._

I always thought that I would never be the one to have my name called, or be the one to fall down in shock as the escort waved at me to come up. I always thought that I would come back home, tease Mike or Isaac about getting reaped, and sit down to eat some of Mom's delicious food. I never expected all of my family, even the distant cousins who only came to see us if they needed money, to come in and say goodbye. My District partner had a steady stream of people as well, but I had what seemed to be half of the District come in. That was what happened when your parents had thirty-five first cousins combined.

 _I didn't know what I would do in the Hunger Games._

Everyone who came into the room said that I should learn to find food, make a fire, and stay away from the more dangerous tributes. District Two always produced ferocious ones for some reason, and other districts managed to get a couple of eighteen-year-olds who had no qualms about snapping a younger tribute's neck. But I didn't know how to use that. I was going in as the equivalent of the twelve-year-olds, as a useless tribute who would be lucky if I didn't fall off of my pedestal in the first sixty seconds. Dad always said that I was the clumsiest kid that he had ever seen, and my blind eye from where one of the cows had kicked me didn't help that matter.

 _And now, I was heading off to die._

It was really only a matter of time. All of the other tributes who had won were 16 or older, and far and away the strongest of their group. I was reasonably tall, but I couldn't match the muscles of an eighteen-year-old miner. I should just have accepted my fate when my name was called and hung my head in sadness for the next week. I would never make it to my fifteenth birthday in two weeks, never see my siblings again, and never run with our dog through the meadows.

 _But, I would go down with a fight. And what a fight it will be…_

 **Hey, all! It's me again, and I have my next side project! Shattered is winding down to its finale, so I thought that I would like to start up another Games! Don't worry, it will definitely not take over the priority of Distorted, but I will make this a partial SYOT. If you consider submitting, please note that my tributes also have a chance to win. I'll have two other original characters, so if nobody submits, I'll just do the story with these three. But if you do, I will write your character to the best of my ability, and maybe you'll enjoy this journey! OK? OK, if you still want to submit, head over to my profile and look around for the form! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	2. Adira Hemlock: Loyal to the End

**Adira Hemlock, 17, District 7 Female**

Contrary to popular belief, the very first volunteer in the Hunger Games didn't come from District 2. That title belonged to an orphaned waif in District 7, forgotten by most, scorned by the rest.

 _Silly Adira. That girl believes that she can become something. She'll never learn, just like her parents._

The first volunteer grew up in an orphanage, her father dead from a tree fall, and her mother too crazed with grief to look after her beautiful toddler. So, off Adira went, away to the house that kids warned younger children about every day.

 _No one manages to survive the orphanage unscathed. Remember Suzie? She lost her parents, and now she's scrubbing floors every day, part of them with her tears. And if you don't give me that chocolate bar, you'll be next._

But Adira was stronger than others. She managed to survive the chores, the negligence, the hostility of the other children. They resented the way she could find her way through the darkness of the place and still dream of better things. She squirmed her way through the doors of the orphanage, and hid outside, dreaming of greater things for herself.

 _There goes Adira again! She's a dreamer, that one. Now, I heard that you would like to adopt Bridget? Right this way, she's just helping with the dishes in the back. She's a worker!_

One day, when Adira was playing outside, she stumbled across a pair of lumberjacks, tramping into the forest, ready for their long day of work. Adira was awestruck. She followed the two, rejoicing in the bright and happy colours of their shirts, and fascinated by the sharp axes that they carried into the forest. Adira had only touched an axe once when she was christened by her parents. They had brought out the large axe that her father used for work, and while she was still squirming against the cold of the steel, her mother touched Adira's forehead and said the words.

 _Little child of mine, you shall be known as the strong Adira. No one will forget you with that name._

From then on, when the head worker of the lumberjacks came outside to start another day in the forests, he found a little girl in a torn dress and scuffed shoes, looking up at him and demanding to help. She was usually pushed away by him, but Adira kept coming back.

 _It's that little girl again, boss. Do you think that we should give her an axe? It could just be a small one, one to distract her enough so that we can finally go to work without getting bitten. She's got sharp teeth, she does._

Adira got her long-awaited axe, and she didn't bother the lumberjacks again. She marched into the forest, pretending to be a lumberjack. She whistled the songs that they always sang when they went into the forest, but she never sang them out loud. Adira had always been trained to not utter profanities, and the songs the lumberjacks sang were no exception.

Adira found a tree, one that the lumberjacks would have no trouble cutting down, but one that would take a while for her to cut down. She spent the afternoon chopping away at it, bit by bit, making sure that it would come down the right way. Finally, as the sun started to set, the lumberjacks who were heading home to eat heard a large crashing sound, and a shriek of delight. Adira had cut down her first tree.

From then on, the Lumberjacks received an extra tree every night to shape into a valuable piece of lumber. It was always a bit smaller than any of theirs, and the stump was a bit jagged, but it was still lumber, and the wiser of the lumberjacks always tipped their hats in pride to the little girl who went marching away, walking in pride to the orphanage.

Eventually, Adira grew older, into a strong woman of 12. She was smart, poised, confident, untouched by the horrors of the orphanage through her work in the forests. But that was when her world went to flames.

The Districts had always been simmering under the Capitol's rule, resentful of the way they were mistreated, mishandled, and abused by the rich Capitol. So, the Districts and the Capitol went to war, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Adira always remembered realizing there was a war when the forests started to burn. It was a horrible sight for District 7, one that made grown men cry and women shield their children's eyes. Adira had no one to shield her eyes. Adira watched the trees, the trees she loved so, fall into ashes, ruined by the bombs. She ran into the woods, ready to stop whatever was making them burn.

Several hours later, a troop of Capitolite soldiers found little Adira vainly sloshing buckets of water onto some of the stronger trees, unaware of the sparks around her, ready to set her torn dress on fire.

 _Hey, look at this little one, Cornelius! Little girl, do you want to come with us? It'll be nice! We've got oranges! And you don't have to breathe all of this horrid air. It makes me want to come back to the wonderful Capitol air, doesn't it, Homer?_

When she sat down with the Capitol soldiers, eating the most delicious fruit she had ever tasted, knowing that they had saved her from the forest, and being told that they would help to save the forests, Adira realized that she had a new love. When the Capitol announced the start of the Hunger Games, and when the first two children were dragged off to their fate, Adira was the only person in the District to salute the peacekeepers back.

The Capitol built houses for some of the older orphans in District 7, in an attempt to gain their loyalty and Adira was one of the lucky ones to settle into them. She had to share them with three other girls, three who cared about nothing but finding a man, but Adira just ignored him. She knew who her savior was, and she would always be grateful for their kindness.

Adira grew older, but she also grew wiser. She realized that she couldn't save everything she loved, but she could save some of it. She continued to work with her axe, and became stronger, quicker, faster, everything looked for in a woman of District 7.

 _There goes Adira, back into the forests to work! That woman will make a man very happy one day, as long as he can stand her temper._

But Adira didn't want to settle down yet. She wanted to show her beloved Capitol how much she adored them, how much they had helped her become herself. She had escaped a horrid fate because of them, and she knew that she owed something to them.

So, when the Fifth Hunger Games rolled around again, and a small little girl was reaped for District 7, straight out of the orphanage and too small to have a hope of surviving the bloodbath, it was Adira who stepped up, declaring that she would take the girl's place. She ignored the gasps of a District who weren't sure what volunteering was and greeted the salutes of the peacekeepers. Adira was a loyalist, and these games would prove it.

 _In District 2, on the train heading to the Capitol, Clay Wolfe watched the tapes of Adira volunteering, trying to ignore the wails of his two little tributes. He grinned at the way she saluted the Capitol and reached for the phone. "Hello? Mr. Augustus? I'd like to use up that wee favour you owe me."_

 **Hey everyone! Oh gosh, I love Adira so much, it hurts! What do you think of her? She's the very first volunteer, so she's special! How do you think she will do? There are still five spots open in this Partial SYOT, so I would love for some other people to jump on and submit a couple of tributes! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	3. Ava Barkley: Castle on the Hill

**Ava Barkley, 15, District 10 Female**

I lay in bed, listening to the soft breathing of my brothers and sisters. They slumbered on, tired from the long day of work. Mom was gone on her night shift at the factory, working to cut the slaughtered cows of the district into viable pieces of beef, and Dad was still out in the fields, guiding the cattle herds that he helped care for through. They had all overlooked me as they went through their routines at night, not paying attention to what anyone else was doing. We didn't eat dinner together; that was only on special occasions, if I were lucky, I could eat at the same time as another sibling. Now, they were fast asleep, unaware of anyone but themselves and their normal, monotonous lives. They had forgotten about me again. And I was going to make the most of it.

I slipped out the door, taking care to keep the portraits that fell on a whim onto the floor on their hooks. I closed the door quietly, then counted to ten. When no sounds emerged from the house, I scurried off into the dark night, trying to find my way out of my small town. I found my way to the road that led to the Capital of District 10, the ribbon of concrete leading to bright lights in the dark night. I ran along the side of it, disappearing into one of the fields. I could very faintly see the glowsticks that my friends had carried in order to make sure that everyone could find each other. They were at the very edge of one of the fields, making sure that we could be as close to the edge of District 10 as we could get.

"You're here!" Fiona cried, carrying a pack of beer and waiting with Jaxon and Derrick. I grinned at the both of them and grabbed a bottle. "Why wouldn't I be? I couldn't miss a sight like Derrick, Fi."

With that, I kissed Derrick full on the lips, making him blush and Jaxon laugh. We all knew that Derrick was planning to stay a virgin until marriage. Derrick wiped his lips, taking a sip from his bottle. "Ava, if you weren't going steady with Anders, you'd be worse than Fi. That one's a worse flirt than Vivian, she is."

Fi slapped him on his arm jokingly, putting her bottle back in the box and burying it under the stump where we kept the stolen liquor. She stood up and pointed to one of the trees dotting the sides of the fields, grinning wildly. "Last one there's buying us the beer!"

We all yelled in excitement as we charged after Fi, who had made the most of her headstart to get ahead of the rest of us. I quickly caught up to her and raced ahead, scrambling up the tree to watch Jaxon and Derrick battle it out for last. Fi and I clapped sarcastically as they collapsed at the foot of the tree, declaring it a tie. I jumped back down and landed on my feet, laughing mercilessly at them. "You idiots, you're buying the best beer you can find. This is why you're made to herd cattle, not - what's that?"

We all looked at a strange lump near the field, nestled among the bushes that littered the border of District 10. It was just barely noticeable in the light, but we could all see that it was too smooth to be a rock.

I walked over towards it, pushing through the bushes to see what it was. The others followed nervously, looking back over their shoulders to see if anyone was there. Leaving District 10 was punishable by death.

I walked up to what seemed to be a large metal cylinder lying among the bushes, close to being buried in the soil. "What is this?"

Jaxon frowned, pushing up his glasses to look carefully at it. "It looks like a storage tank, like the ones on the peacekeeper vehicles for gas. Dad drives over to them every week to buy gas."

Derrick shook his head, tapping the metal. It rung hollow, leaving the echo of the tap to resonate throughout the object. "It's not a storage container. It's almost like it's from the -"

I kicked the object impatiently, frustrated of how boring it was. "Why couldn't it be something cool? Nothing interesting ever happens to District 10."

The object started to beep, causing us to all turn around from each other and stare curiously at it. Jaxon suddenly paled. "Oh my Panem, it's a freaking bomb from the Dark Days! Run, idiots! Go!"

We all sprinted away from the beeping bomb. It started to beep faster the further we sprinted, before turning into one high pitch.

 _Boom!_

I was thrown off of my feet from the force of the explosion, crashing straight into the ground. Fi, Jaxon, and Derrick all were blown along with me, spitting out dirt as they struggled to get up. I shook my head, my ears ringing frantically from the blast. The bomb left behind a billowing cloud of smoke rising into the air, and small patches of fire started to burn in the bushes. I stood up uncertainly, looking at my friends. Derrick had a large cut on his arm from a branch, pebbles were lodged in Jaxon's arms, and Fi's hair was slightly singed from the blast. We all stared at each other, looking at our wounds. Then, we laughed, pointing at each other and laughing at the sheer absurdity of what had happened. We had almost died in that blast, yet I wouldn't have it any other way. As long as we all looked out for one another, we'd never die. We would always have each other.

 **Hey guys! It's been too long since I last updated this XD. Well, here's Ava! Thanks to IridescentEverdeen for her, and I hope to introduce a couple more characters pretty soon! Now that I'm done Shattered, I can focus more on Impossible, and that's great! What did you think of Ava? Did you think the bomb was believable? Leave a review! By the way, I just need an Eleven female, and I'll have a full cast! So if you can spare a bit to make me one, I'd deeply appreciate it :D What do you think of the chapter title? I think the friends feel a bit like Ed Sheeran's song, so there it is. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	4. Sidney Fawkes: The Panemians

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District 2 Male**

At first glance, the nation of Panem looks like a strong, united country. A person can easily see that the districts are ruled well by the Capitol, the people are reasonably happy, and the Capitol is flourishing. Loyal districts are rewarded by the Capitol with extra supplies and better conditions, and the system goes on, both the Districts and the Capitol seeming to mutually help one another. But when you pulled away the covers, if you looked closely at the districts, you could see the resentment harbouring in the districts. People didn't like that the Capitol won the war against the districts. People wanted change, and they were still fighting for it. The Hunger Games quelled some of the resentment, but behind closed doors, people still murmur about overthrowing President Ember and taking back their freedom that they lost in the Dark Days. But the more vocal ones are made to be quiet; silenced by mysterious assassins that were rumoured to be loyal to the Capitol. Whenever one of their victims were found, they had the mark of light on their forehead. Some people believed that the assassins weren't real; that it was just a serial killer with a penchant for rebels, but they couldn't deny the mark of the light on each victim's forehead. They couldn't deny that when they died, it was making Panem a better place. By killing rebels, the Eternal Sun was helping purify Panem. That was why I was currently training to become one of them. When I joined at nineteen, I would finally be able to carry on my parent's work.

Until then, I still attended school and took side jobs to get extra sesterces. I acted just like a normal teenager, hiding my weapons skills, brushing aside the frequent 'business' trips of my parents, and just trying to fit in. But whenever my parents were notified of unrest in any of the districts, they would slip out of District Two and eliminate it under the cover of night. We never wanted the sun to shine upon the rebels. They were always killed at night.

Mother had taken me once with her. It was an older woman in District Three, a grandmother who had been revealed to be a leader of a rebel force. I had watched Mother break in quickly into the house, checking the bedroom before finding the woman in her kitchen. Mother had quickly shot her, and I had watched the blood stream down her face as she stared at me, saying a name that I couldn't hear. I had watched her die. I would do the same in only a few years. The Eternal Sun was counting on young recruits, and I was not going to let them down. I was a loyal agent.

Mother and Father were currently in their bedroom, quietly chatting about Clay Wolfe and his failure to have brought back another victor for Two. Although their loyalty lay to the Capitol, Mother and Father were very patriotic about District Two. In a sense, they viewed the Games as a necessary sport. It was something to distract them while they were at home. Most things in our home were just distractions for them while they were at home. Our leather furniture, made by the finest craftsmen in Panem, were never sat on. Mother's and Father's bed was almost never used. Even our kitchen had little food in it; Mother and Father felt little need to stock the cabinets if they only ate in our house every week or so. Only my room was really used in our house, only I ate at the table regularly, bought food, and slept in the house. I was alone more times than not.

I listened to Mother and Father quietly, ignoring my near-completed homework for a moment. The Eternal Sun taught all agents how to eavesdrop. Even though it was taught so that we could filter people's true allegiances, I still shamelessly used it to listen in on the conversations of my parents. They never told me much about their personal matters, so it was the only way I learned anything anymore.

"You don't have to be so judgmental, Lynessa!" My father's voice drifted to my ear, and I pressed it against the wall.

"And I shouldn't worry about that other woman of yours? What's her name, Elizabeth? You're in love with a wench, Alistair."

"And you haven't had your fair share of illicit romance? Duncan was good enough for you, even though he's a married man. Our relationship is strictly professional, Lynessa. We don't need to bring emotions into it. It's too messy."

"Agreed. I don't even know why the Sun even paired us up sometimes."

I jumped away from the wall and sat back down at my desk, furiously writing equations as my mother walked past my bedroom. She looked inside to see how I was, then walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoing through our silent house. My father fidgeted in his room for a bit longer, then walked down the hall. He stopped at my room. "How are you?"

"Good! I'm good!" I said, turning around to see my father. Mother always pointed out that I was his spitting image, that it was because of his suave dark hair and dazzling hazel eyes that she first fell in love with him. I hadn't known that she was such a good liar until now.

Dad smiled, turning to leave. "I've got to leave to District Three. Some idiot's been vandalizing the Justice Building, so duty calls. Have a good night, Sidney!"

"Thanks! You too… " I trailed off, watching Dad leave and out of the driveway. Mom did the same in the opposite direction, and a trail of dust followed both. I was alone again.

 **Hey all! I wrote this chapter to have a back-up, so now we're all good! What did you think of Sidney and his parents? I found him fun to write, and his skills will be pretty fun in the games. I still need a District 11 Female (sorry, but I don't accept review tributes. If you want to sub though, make an account and submit :D), but when I have one, we'll be prepared! We're over halfway into the intros, so it'll likely be going more slowly after today, but I'm still happy with how much I've done now. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	5. Davina Sterling: In The Dark

**Davina Sterling, 18, District 1 Female**

She stared out into the darkness, looking at the lights of the town shine through the streets. It was so beautiful. And it was hers to live in. It was clean, it was safe, it was pure, and most importantly, it was where her family lived. Nothing could hurt the Sterlings in District One.

Davina looked back into the darkened room, noting fondly the pillows neatly stacked on her bed, the book she had been reading, and the stuffed rabbit that her family had given her when she was born. Mr. Muggins seemed to grin back at her, his ears cocking in excitement. She laughed, then leaped out of the window, running at a full sprint out of her lawn and onto the street. It was best to run in the night. It was only herself, the small town that she lived in, and the beauty of the night sky. She ran every night, embracing the wonder of the night. It seemed as if the town was another world at 9:30. It took on an ethereal, mysterious aura, the buildings seeming to gleam like the gems prized so in the district. It even seemed to change those who went into the night. She felt more herself when she ran at this time, as if the night unraveled the walls surrounding her true personality. People seemed to only be themselves in the dark.

She ran, sprinting down the lawn and onto the street. Her muscles screamed lightly, then relaxed as she got into a rhythm. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. She kept running, past the house where Old Man Ferrin lived, past the junkyard, past the jeweler's store, and to the mountain at the side of the town. People smiled as she went past, knowing that Davina was enjoying the night again. Everyone enjoyed the night in District One. The moon made this gem of a town shine brighter than anything else could.

She reached the mountain, running up the dusty road with careful strides. She made sure to stay away from the potholes, Mama had sprained her ankle on one of her runs last summer from them, and ran close to the dewy grass, smelling the scent of dusk with delight. It was perfect.

She kept running up the mountain with quick, nimble strides. She looked down at her watch. Five minutes. If she wanted to beat her record today, she would have to sprint the last bit. Davina nodded and ran faster, pounding the ground with her feet. Her muscles screamed at the workout, but Davina ignored them. If she succumbed to pain, she was no better than any of the other kids in her town. She had to be stronger, faster, smarter, just like her family. They would all shine together.

She saw the peak of the mountain in the moonlight and ran even faster, her legs starting to cramp as she raced up the last few feet. Closer… closer… and she was there, her lungs heaving for breath and her legs collapsing onto the wet grass. She looked down at her watch. Six minutes and ten seconds. She had done it.

Davina laughed and sank into the grass, watching the moonlight. She should have done her customary stretches first, but the night always seemed to intoxicate her. She would wait for a few moments before stretching. She was basking in her victory.

Davina threw a rock into the air, pondering the days ahead. Tomorrow, her family would be making their way to the capital of One, reaching it in time to find a hotel to sleep for the night. The next day would be the reapings, where two of her fellow teenagers would be taken to the Capitol. She laughed as she remembered the last trip to the capital of One. Stray dogs had followed the family, perhaps smelling the meat that they carried in a basket for dinner. Her mother had beat them away with rocks, stinging one directly on the nose. The dogs had ran away with their tails between their legs, causing the whole family to laugh. Nothing could hurt the Sterlings.

"Hey, sister." Davina shrieked and jumped to her feet, her eyes meeting the ones who had scared her so. Wonder and Lux smiled slightly at her, their grins identical to the other. The twins could always manage to scare others, even if they didn't intend to do so. Davina frowned and pushed them both, causing them to laugh. "Why are you two always skulking around? It's always so unnerving. Honestly, I don't understand the rest of the girls in town. They shouldn't be in love with literal psychopaths!"

Wonder and Lux made faces of mock anger, frowning merrily at Davina. She laughed and rubbed the top of their heads, causing them to both yell at her. "Are Mom and Dad at home?"

"They went to another marriage session with the therapist." Wonder nodded as Lux finished. The bond between their parents had never been the same since their mother had cheated on their father, but they had reconciled. Now, they were working on trusting one another again, helping each other to fall in love again. And honestly, Davina felt that their marriage was now stronger than ever before.

"They said that we can stay out until 10:00 PM, but we have to get back to turn off the stove. Mom doesn't want her roast beef to be blackened again." It was Wonder who spoke this time, his brother fidgeting slightly. Davina looked down at her watch. It was 9:52 PM. They had eight minutes to get back home, or they would have ruined their parent's meal for the eighth time - this month.

"Oh, shi- we have to run back right now, guys. Come on!" Davina raced off without waiting for the twins, her feet flying down the mountain. It was as if she had wings, wings carrying her towards to the house. She would make it back in time. The twins would make their way back. And, most importantly, they would stay together as a family. Nothing, not even the Hunger Games, could hurt the Sterlings.

 **Here's the next chapter! What did you think of Davina and her family? Any interesting things? I think that she could be a contender...**

 **On another note, I'm having a small sponsor system for this Partial SYOT! Every submission gets 10 points (Submissions are now closed, btw) and every review gets 5 points! Here are the points as of now.**

RoadieMcRoadface: 15 Points

Iridescenteverdeen: 20 Points

Goldie031: 15 Points

LongingForRomeo: 15 Points

Jailynne: 10 Points

 **The sponsor system will be fairly simple, with:**

Small food item (Apples, crackers, etc.): 40 Points

Large food item (Anything!): 60 Points

Medicine (Poison cure, fever medicine, aspirin, etc.): 55 Points

First Aid (Bandages, healing cream, etc.): 70 Points

Small Weapons (Knives, poison, etc.): 70 Points

Large Weapons (Sword, spear, etc.): 100 Points

 **Thanks for all of the support! Hope you liked this chapter, and Read and Review! Only three more chapters until the reapings are over ;) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	6. Ashira Marlstone: Into Your Place

**Ashira Marlstone, 16, District 12 Female**

The stray cat walked once more through the sweltering heat of the house, mewling pitifully for a scrap of food. I clucked my tongue and tossed it a piece of the bread I had been nibbling on, letting the cat pounce onto the piece. "Aye, cat, you can be a handful sometimes. You won't always find food here. Grandmother's going to toss you out one day, no matter what Mother says. You better run soon, cat."

The cat purred in delight, rubbing against my leg before exiting through the open door of the house. I sighed and waved the pieces of paper around me again, letting the cold breeze from my makeshift fan cool me down. Twelve got hot in the afternoons, and even though our family lived in town, we still could never find an air conditioner that worked for the summer.

"Ashira, come and peel these potatoes! Even if they have eyes, they have no hands to peel themselves and get themselves ready for our dinner." A low laugh came from my Grandmother's chair in the corner, and I stood up to get a peeler. "Of course, Grandmother. Sliced as well?"

"Child, you know I can only eat them mashed with these teeth of mine! Slice them and set them out to boil." Grandmother laughed again, and I walked to the sink, peeling the potatoes over and over. The skin fell to the bottom of the sink, and I kept slicing away at them all. It was a mindless job, but it was a good job. Life was good when you could just focus on one and one thing only.

"Ah, seems as if the Capitol is implementing harsher security on District 6 for riots. Tsk, I always knew that District 6 was no good. The city is no place for us, Ashira." Grandmother continued to read her newspaper, occasionally pointing out information she deemed necessary to announce to the house. The only reaction was from Grandfather, as he snored through the afternoon on the couch. Grandmother ignored him and continued to read, looking at interest at the interviews of the new mayor. "Looks like the mayor wants to put a crackdown on the Seam. Hmm, they deserve it. Sometimes Seam children can just be filthy messes, running around without any care in the world for education. They need to be put in place."

I dropped the peeler, cutting myself as I picked it back up slowly. I ignored the blood dripping off of my thumb and touched my face slowly, feeling the olive tones of my skin. The blood left a mark on my face and I wiped it off on my pants, ignoring the wound. It was just blood.

 _Wasn't the blood your grandparents wanted, Ashira…_

"Child, could you come here and read this out for me? My old eyes aren't able to read that tiny script." Grandmother beckoned me over, pointing at the page of her newspaper. "Read this, Ashira. The wretched newspaper doesn't have enough money to enlargen that script, although Mr. Jameson has enough money to buy off half of the businesses in town. Pft! That's what happens when you're paid off by the Capitol to write lies."

I walked over to Grandmother, taking a look at the newspaper and starting to read. "Yesterday, Mayor Jones declared a new sanction upon the curfew, declaring the miscreants and ruffians running throughout the town were causing too much trouble for District Twelve to be allowed to stay out overnight. Now, he has decided on a new… "

I kept reading the article, not really paying attention to what I was reading. Why did these senseless words even matter? It was your actions, your knowledge that was important, not learning about the mayor's newest curfew. But it was what Grandmother wanted. I couldn't disappoint her.

As I finished the article, Grandmother sighed with relief, patting me on the back. "You're a good reader, Ashira. If you spoke up more, people would listen more."

I nodded, going back to the potatoes and starting to slice them into pieces for dinner. They quickly were finished and I dumped them into the boiling pot, waiting for them to become soft enough to mash up for dinner. I sighed, stirring around the water idly. It was the same thing every day; help Grandmother, make supper and watch Mother and Father come back from work. Mother would be taking off her high heels, claiming that her feet were too used to the ground to stay in shoes all day, and she'd run to the house like a child, laughing with my father and wrapping me up in a big hug, squishing me against her soft, olive skin and her brown hair that smelled so like almonds and soap. She'd talk about her day with Dad, and then we'd all go to bed. It was monotonous, but it was nice. I liked it. At least I didn't have to worry about where I belonged.

Grandmother got out of her chair and walked towards me, pointing at the pot. "Child, you're going to overcook the potatoes! I swear, if you got reaped for those Hunger Games, you'd be dead in the minute."

I shrugged, taking the potatoes out and starting to mash them in the now-drained pot. It wasn't as if the Hunger Games were that bad. After all, even with my mother being from the Seam, I was still one of the merchant class. I wouldn't be reaped, right? Right?

Right.

 **Hey guys! Back with another chapter, and we've only got two to go before the train rides! Woop! What did you think of Ashira? I hope I did well with her, goldie031, and thanks a lot for her ;) Keep reviewing, and here are the points thus far.**

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	7. Alexis Telle: Sweetest Revenge

**Alexis Telle, 17, District 2 Female**

Panem has every person in their country filed away in the Capitol, their whole lives summarized onto a small piece of paper, ready to bring out once they die or they're reaped. But Panem doesn't realize that they've forgotten the true lives of the people. They don't realize that people vanish into thin air, with their bodies hidden away until some person stumbles onto their corpse. Panem might think that they know what's happened to every one of their citizens, but they're wrong. They have no idea what exactly happened to my parents. They barely know that my brother existed. The only thing they know about me is my name, filed away along with my tesserae slips to be ready to call out in the reapings.

I slipped out of the bedroom window, flying into the bushes and away from the orphanage. To the owners, I was just another body who slept there at night, another number to gain money from the government. As long as they didn't see me, they didn't care where I went. And I was perfectly fine with that.

I walked down the road, past the merchant shops and into the streets of glass. Roman had named them that after he had seen the broken bottles lying on the ground in this section of town. He had the right idea. This part of town was only for seedy drunks. I noted a little girl standing in one of the doorways, holding a stuffed orange bunny and watching me with a dull gaze. I looked back, melting into the shadows on the side of the street. She shrugged as she watched me disappear, tugging at her dirty, faded nightgown and closed her door. I looked back at the house once more, and slipped into the inner workings of the streets of glass. That was where I would find my true destination.

 **.oOo.**

 _Papa walked into the house with large steps, causing little Roman to giggle and Mom to brush her beautiful blonde hair behind her ears, fixing one of her jade earrings before she turned to my father. "Hello, darling. And how was work?"_

 _Papa laughed, slipping out of his white armour and placing it on the table. Roman smiled and tried putting it on, slipping the shoulder pads over his arms. I laughed at the way they slid onto his arms, tousling his ginger hair. Papa scooped up Roman onto his shoulders and turned to face Mom, taking a large bow before her. "The district's starting to uprise along with the rest of them. We've been holding back the few who've been actively protested, but the district is on edge, Valerie. We might be overthrown."_

 _Mother gasped, holding me close to her side. "Surely that isn't true. We're a loyal district, aren't we?"_

" _I wouldn't lie to you. It's only a few, but it's a sure sign of smoke."_

" _And smoke leads to fire." Mom ran her hands through her hair, sighing heavily. "I don't know how we'll manage to survive through these next few months, Syrio."_

" _But we'll try, Valerie."_

" _We will, Syrio. Not even President Ember can stop us from trying."_

 **.oOo.**

I walked through the town, taking care not to step on the chunks of green and brown glass littering the streets. Even though District Two had made it through the war intact, the Capitol had neglected to clean up this part of town. As a result, it left a town built on lies, deceit, and lust, only fit for wanderers. You didn't want to be seen in here if you wanted to keep your reputation. I had seen several businessmen caught in the streets of glass with lovers of their own, their pictures snapped by greedy photographers. If you were caught in this sinful place, your reputation would crumble. It was impossible to save yourself once you were found in this place.

I kept walking, taking care to melt once more into the shadows. I didn't need the men from the mines following me into here. Even if they didn't care about my choices in here, I knew they didn't want to see me disappear like my parents. But if I was ever going to satisfy my conscience, I had to come into the streets of glass. I had to revisit the place where my parents first met. I had to visit the place where my parents died.

I heard a small sound behind me and panicked, diving into one of the allies to wait it out. Was it a hobo? Or was it one of the men from the mines? Greg never wanted me to come here, but Roberto was more of the type to help me. I didn't need either of them coming into here with me.

A cat walked by, pointing its tail up in the air as it regally walked past me. I sighed in relief, slipping out and continuing to walk until I saw the dingy loft I was looking for. I looked distastefully at the faded floral curtains, covered in muck and stains, and picked up a piece of glass from the road. It was finally time.

I slipped aside the curtains, revealing a mattress where a peacekeeper and another woman were sleeping together, wrapped under a velvet sheet. I shook the dirty, nude woman, who woke instantly and gasped once she saw me. I pressed my finger against her lips and showed her my piece of glass. She nodded silently and snatched up pants and a bra, stumbling over herself as she struggled to put her clothes over her pale, milk-white skin. I turned around, away from the fleeing prostitute, and turned to the peacekeeper, who stirred in his sleep as he let out a large yawn. "Rahab? Is that you?"

"No. It's Alexis." The peacekeeper opened his eyes, staring at me with confusion. "Who's Alexis?"

"Your murderer." And I plunged the piece of green glass into the neck of my family's killer.

 **Hey! Finally finished this chapter :) What did you think about Alexis? Did you like my writing of her? Thanks to LongingForRomeo for her, she was great to write. Hopefully you liked how I wrote her! If you didn't, just contact me and I'll try to make her character better. Well, enjoy this chapter! Read and review, though I wouldn't mind it if you followed and faved as well. I'm aiming to get our last intro out by the 18th, so let's see if I can't do that!**

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	8. Emmett Lightway: Everything Will Change

**Emmett Lightway, 16, District 3 Male**

I waded throughout the cold, muddy pond, pushing past the green and mucky weeds floating on the surface of the water. There had to be more frogs around here than the number I had seen so far. I needed at least five if I wanted to pass the biology assignment on how animals adapt to being outside of their habitat, and I wanted to pass. I wasn't the star student of that class for nothing.

I kept looking, seeing one frog peacefully croak on the top of a lily pad. I held my breath with excitement and waited for one, two, three, four, five, before I leaped at it, splashing into the pond and grabbing a hold of the frog's slimy leg. It croaked and tried to squirm out of my hand, its vocal sac - wait, make that he, only males had the large vocal sac - expanding rapidly as he tried to get away from me. I held firm to the frog, depositing it into the glass jar with the three other ones I had managed to find around the pond in the last hour. One more, and I'd have enough data to finally start my homework!

 _And then I'd be able to sleep…_

I lunged at another frog, just missing it and losing the glass jar in the pond. I gasped and dove under the water for it, grabbing it as it bobbed back up to the surface. The frogs looked somewhat frightened - as frogs would feel if they were bashed around in a glass jar - and I wiped my brow in relief. I didn't want to spend another hour here. The weird weeds floating on the top told me that it probably wasn't too sanitary to look around here for my assignment.

I saw another frog croaking peacefully near the side of the pond and crept closer, making sure to not trip over any of the roots on the side of the pond. The ripped toenail I had gotten last month proved that it wasn't a good idea to not look at the ground when I was searching for animals.

I suddenly fell on top of it, my hands grabbing a hold of the stomach. I made sure not to crush the panicking frog and dropped it into the glass jar, clasping the top of the jar onto the jar. I could finally get out of these weeds and go home!

And take a shower. I stank horribly.

I waded out of the pond and grabbed my shoes, walking towards my house. I didn't want to wreck these shoes after Mom had bought them only a month ago. I'd just have to go barefoot, just like how the kids in the rural districts did. Well, at least what I thought I knew. Even our teachers didn't seem to know much about their customs other than the bare minimum. Maybe that was the reason we only had to write a paragraph about them when we did the customary report on Panem, while the Capitol and District Three got a page. It was good for us, though. Even if we searched in the libraries around Three, we'd still only find a few old books that didn't tell us anything other than Panem used to be horrible and now it was perfect.

 _If it was perfect, we'd be able to travel to those districts and see for ourselves._

I laughed at my rebellious thought and kept walking, purposely ignoring the people who stopped and stared as weeds kept dripping off of my jeans. I wouldn't be able to talk to them if I wanted to anyway. My tongue always got flustered whenever I talked to others. It took two weeks before I was accustomed enough to my teachers in order to answer questions.

I jogged through the last street before my house, cringing slightly as my bare feet hit the sharp pebbles lining the sides of the streets. It probably hadn't been the best idea to walk barefoot the whole way, but it was better than ruining my shoes. I should have remembered to bring my boots, but that was the way of life. Whenever I needed something, it would disappear into thin air, and whenever I needed clutter to go away, it started to pile up in front of my very eyes.

I walked up the driveway to our small house, opening the door and walking inside. The shower was running inside, and I frowned slightly. I'd have to wait a bit longer before I'd be able to get all of this… gunk off of me.

I walked towards my bedroom and opened up the jar of frogs, placing them all into the large plastic container that I had taken yesterday to fill with sand and patches of water. I checked to see if the small camera I had set up was running and then stepped away. It would monitor how the frogs would react to being placed in this new environment, and then I'd finally be able to finish the assignment.

"Emmett! Are you ready for the reapings in an hour?" Mom emerged from her bedroom with her hair shiny and wet and a new set of clothes on, carefully applying lipstick as she walked towards me. "They're at 11:00. It's 10:00, right?"

I looked down at my watch and gasped, pointing at the wall. "Did you remember to reset the clock to the right time when we had the power outage last night?"

Mom gasped, pointing to my room and rushing down the stairs, her makeup forgotten. "It's 10:45? We're going to have to sprint to make it Emmett! No, you don't have time to change. Throw on shoes and run! We don't need that fine today!"

I sprinted alongside Mom, running towards the town square over a mile away. At least no one was here to watch more gunk fall off of me as we frantically tried to get to the reapings on time. They were all at the town square.

 _And if we didn't, I'd have to take out some tesserae to help make up for our tardiness. Ugh, why did the power plant have to rewire some lines yesterday?_

 **Hi! It's me again, and I'm here with possibly our last reaping! What did you think of Emmett? Thanks to iridescenteverdeen for him!** **I hope you enjoyed him, because we're heading into the Capitol soon ;) Well, enjoy your summer if you have it already, and good luck for anyone going through exams! Mine are coming up soon, and I'm desperately trying to study for them.**

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	9. Train Rides: Forever Lost

**Davina Sterling, 18, District One Female**

The goodbye rooms were surprisingly cold for the start of the summer when she went in to say goodbye.

She shivered in her blouse and jeans when her parents came to see her once more, their lips making silents Os of astonishment and surprise. Neither of them expected her to be reaped. Neither of them expected to have to come here today. But they'd be staying up throughout the night, watching the Games for her. She'd never be totally alone in the arena.

As they all hugged before the peacekeepers came in to escort the others out, she saw that Wonder and Lux were crying slightly. She watched small tears slide down their smooth, tanned faces in unison, dripping onto the red, woolen rug below them as they walked out of the doors. Wonder and Lux never cried. They had originally sworn against it when they were eight, deeming the action unworthy of themselves, and from then she had never seen them shed a tear. Until now.

Davina didn't expect the dozens of photographers at the trains when she and her district partner went out to say goodbye. It was good that she had cried the few tears that she could weep before they left. It wouldn't do for these… _Capitolites_ to see her in her vulnerability. She had to be strong for her family.

She later discovered that this was the first year that photographers would document the tributes fully through the games, that the tributes of years past had been able to board their trains without having to hide anything from the press. The president had apparently allowed the press to do so after a fierce rise in documenting celebrities around the Capitol, and now she was stuck inside of their photos forever. At least she didn't cry like Benny had done so.

Benny was a young boy from the mines close to the heart of One, having grown up not taking any tesserae whatsoever. No one expected this one to be reaped, they all expected someone from the heart of the town who was nearly starving to death to be sent to their deaths. That was what the Games were _for_ , to weed out the people who were unnecessary to the district. Well, no one told the reaping bowl such this year, and Davina and Benny were in the Games. At least Mom and Dad had the sense to train her in combat before sending her out to get tesserae. If anything, Davina was at least ready to fight.

And fight she would.

 **Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

She couldn't stop laughing when she had been reaped. The Capitol had finally managed to get rid of the family who couldn't stop disappearing. It was only a matter of time before she died herself, her name to fly away from Panem on the winds of change. No one would remember her in the years to come except as a number.

Unless she won. And she would try. There was nothing to stop her from trying to win. If she did, her family's name wouldn't be easily forgotten. Syrio Ricci, Valerie Telle, and Roman Telle wouldn't be forgotten if she managed to win.

Until then, she would enjoy all of the many, many luxuries that came with being reaped for the Hunger Games. She had listened to lectures from Clay on the radio in the mines, but she was usually too busy chipping away at the rocks in the mines to hear exactly what happened in the Hunger Games. But she remembered that the food on the trains was supposed to be divine. If it was anything but less than that, she'd be disappointed. If the Capitol wanted to kill off twenty-three children every year for rebelling against them, they had to at least feed them well!

She nibbled on a plump grape, rolling it around in her mouth to get used to the texture, then bit down on it slightly, and _oh_ it was everything she had dreamed of. Roman had had fruit before the Games had started with her, their mother had taken them both to a merchant and let them choose an apple that they both liked, but she had never had this… _explosion_ of flavour in her mouth like this! Oh, if only Roman could have been here to taste it, if only!

She paused, the juice of the grape dripping down the back of her throat. Roman was gone. He had been mercilessly killed by the peacekeeper, _not before taking his innocence first_ , and he was never coming back. He was gone forever, forgotten to the world.

She spat the grape out, desperately trying not to taste the flavour, oh so delicious flavour it had. She didn't deserve to taste something that good when she had let Roman die. _She_ hadn't taken care of him enough. And now he was gone.

She pushed the food from the counter away from herself, ignoring the curious looks from Clay. "Are you okay, Alexis?"

"I'm going to go sleep. I'm tired," she mumbled, and she trudged out of the room, ever so slowly, before racing to her bedroom and locking herself inside of it as quickly as she could manage to. No one would hear her cry here.

 **Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

He shook Clay Wolfe's hand firmly, enjoying meeting the man himself after first watching him win the Second Hunger Games for Two by surviving the collapse of the stadium and killing off his own district partner. He still remembered how he had walked out of the dust, his sword wet with blood and his eyes apparently wet with tears. But he had stood so firm and looked so strong that all of Two thought it was just his eyes watering, and there were thousands of cheap pictures around Two with the iconic moment forever imprinted onto them. But they never managed to meet the glory of what it looked like on screen. Nothing could have matched watching it for the first time and hearing the loud rumble coming up from Two before realizing it was his district that was rejoicing a victor. "How are you, Mr. Wolfe?"

"Call me Clay." The victor seemed to have aged since the famous battle, his shoulders weary and a beard starting to grow in. He had grown up.

Sidney nodded, smiling firmly and pointing to the front of the train. "So we'll be at the Capitol in less than a day?"

Clay nodded, scratching the back of his neck as he did so. "We'll probably be there before the sun sets. That's what happens when you live in a district close to the Capitol, you have less time to prepare on the train. If Seven, Eleven or Twelve ever realized that they had that advantage, they would scramble to do, well, _anything_ to get their tributes ready for the Games. The rest of us have to wait for the Capitol to do that."

Sidney nodded, looking past him towards the rooms lining the train. The hallway floor seemed to gleam with care and polish, inviting the walker to dance across the floors in the comfortable slippers that Clay had given them when they had first climbed aboard. At the end of the hallway, he saw a flash of red cross into an open door quickly, and then it was gone before he could even blink. Funny. "Well, is there anything that we can prepare for as we wait to get to the Capitol?"

Clay grinned, turning on the huge television on the side of the wall. "If we watch the reapings, you'll get your first look at your competition. It's probably the best thing to do in this situation; it's going to let you choose who the biggest threats are. You find the threats, you're set for the first five minutes."

 **Emmett Lightway, 16, District Three Male**

"Umm… a threat, I guess?" Emmett said hesitantly, shrinking back into his chair as the mentor glared at him. "He's twelve years old, you _idiot_! And he's from District One! One has never won the Hunger Games! Are you dumb in the head?"

"But Three hasn't won either..." he mumbled, trying to avoid the fierce glare of the woman. She seemed tired or something. Emmett didn't understand Capitolites, they always seemed to be bipolar or something. Who else could go from bubbly for the cameras to this storm of a mood?

"I'm better off with the girl. At least she knows more about these Games than you." The mentor smiled kindly at Hallie, who grinned and displayed her notes on District One. They took up over a page. "I'm a fast writer. You see, here we have the boy's reactions, and then his muscle structure compared to most of his age. And then we've got the girl, who's actually one of the bigger ones from One thus far. We'll have to watch out for her. And here's where we put common allergies and diseases in One..."

Emmett rubbed his head in dismay, trying to get rid of the headache that had been plaguing away at him ever since he had stepped onto the train. It was like the train took away his ability to think, the headache just throbbed away in his head like a clock. It wasn't stopping.

The mentor stalked away from Emmett, taking a triumphant Hallie with her. "We'll watch the rest of the reapings together, not with that… _boy_. You're our only chance of getting me out of this job, you here?"

Hallie nodded, pointing at District Four as they walked onto the stage. "And those two are..."

Emmett watched the two from Four walk up onto the stage, noting the slight limp that the boy had as he tried to get up onto it. Was that…

He noted the pale skin on his arms and face, and the tense look of someone who was suffering through stomach cramps. Did he have the fever? He did. Either Emmett was crazy, or the boy from Four was suffering from salmonella.

 **Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

She refused to acknowledge the boy right next to her. His silent weeping was starting to get on her nerves a bit, especially the way his shoulders shook every time he let out an especially big one. And who named their kid Leif anyway?

Maddie was walking around the dining room, pointing at the screen as the pair from Five popped right up. "See them? The boy looks strong, you can tell by the way he's had enough to eat. If he doesn't lose his head in the Games when the hunger and the dehydration get to him, he might be a good ally for one of you two."

Adira scoffed, looking at the small list that she had made so far for potential allies. The girl from One and the boy from Two had stood out so far, as well as the girl from Four. And there was still District Ten to come. District Ten had always managed to get one strong tribute to the Games, even if they hadn't won yet. They were easily one of the stronger districts. And that was why she'd have to ally with at least one of them. If she didn't factor the strongest players in the Games into her plots, then her chances at winning the Games would come crashing down into dust. Without District Ten, it may as well be close to impossible to win the Hunger Games. And she was going to win them.

District Six came rushing into view, the thousands upon thousands of children in the square all being shown in one magnificent shot. She had to hand it to them, the people in charge of filming the reapings knew what they were doing. They made it look enviable to live there, with the glamour shots of buildings and the healthy, happy people standing in the square. She almost wanted to visit, just to see what it was like. But then she would lose her trees, her beautiful trees, and everything that made Seven, well, District Seven. Seven had her heart, not a district filled with smog and glass covered buildings.

"You know, they rig the reapings sometimes." Maddie pointed at the thousands of children on the screen, eating a crisp, juicy apple. "There's much, much more than them. So, they preliminarily reap some kids from the district, about as many in that square, and then they do the official reapings. Much simpler than trying to fit close to a million people into the tiny square."

A million people! She gaped at the screen, trying to comprehend the fact that they lived with a million others. One million! She definitely didn't want to go Six now. It'd be so crowded, she wouldn't be able to breathe. No wonder they always lost the Games. They would have no idea what to do without any other people around them.

 **Ava Barkley, 15, District Ten Female**

The train was dark in the night.

She had slipped out of her bed ages ago, there was nothing to do and she couldn't sleep, and now she was wandering the hallways, looking to see if there was something to occupy her mind. Oh, if only she could just jump out of the windows and run back to Ten! Fi would likely be slipping out of her window and rushing to the fields, trying to find Jax and Derrick. Would they be missing her? Or would they have forgotten Ava already?

She shook her head fiercely, pushing the unwanted thought away. Of course they missed her! They were her friends! And she was going to come back to them. It was the only way to stay sane on this train. It was so lonely…

She opened a door and gasped, seeing a few men and women dressed entirely in red and smiling with each other, moving their hands and making laughing motions. They looked at her and gasped as she watched them, one of them running towards her and shutting the door. The door slammed and she was out again in the hallway, the darkness the only one accompanying her. What were they doing here?

"Hello?" She pushed open the door again, ignoring the frantic hand motions of the men and women clad in red. Were they servants or something? Maybe they ran the train and were just taking a break during the night. "I only wanted to see what was inside. Could I come in?"

The group looked at one another nervously before one slowly opened the door, beckoning her in. Ava stepped in and looked at the snug quarters, with ready-made beds and a small counter and stove on the side of the room. "Do all of you live in here?"

One of them with a curious nose nodded, taking a pad of paper and writing something down onto it. Ava took a close look at it, reading the neat script quickly. "We all live in here. This is the avox quarters. Avox? What's that?"

The man with a curious nose pointed to himself, then to the rest of them, gesturing to his mouth. Ava frowned slightly, trying to comprehend him. "So… you're an avox?"

The man nodded, writing something down on the paper. Ava looked at it again, nodding her head slowly. "We can't talk. No tongues."

The group nodded and she gasped slightly, putting her hand to her mouth. Imagine not being able to talk! That would be horrible! Why, she wouldn't be able to do _anything_ she liked to do without talking!

A sudden clang reverberated through the room and the group panicked, pushing me out of the door and gesturing for me to get out frantically. I walked out and they shut the door, only opening it for a few of them to run to the front of the train. I frowned, walking back to the dining car. The Capitol was a strange place. A strange place indeed...

 **Joel Fletcher, 14, District Ten Male**

He woke up with the sun as he had always done back at home, rising and changing into a set of clothes provided for him on a chair at the side of his bed. It was strange to think that someone had gotten through his locked door and _watched_ him while he slumbered, but Joel didn't care that much. At least he had his own room. No Fletcher got to sleep alone unless they decided to sleep under the stars.

He opened his door and walked outside, the smell of… chocolate… and something like pancakes wafting in the distance. Someone was hungry, that was for sure.

Ava was standing by the stove, one of the servants clad in red watching her protectively. She glanced behind her when she saw him and grinned, rushing over towards him. "Joel! Great to see you, buddy!"

He smiled and waved to the servant, who nodded tersely and turned back towards the stove. Joel flushed and turned back to Ava. "Umm, who's the guy in red?"

Ava laughed, waving at the guy. "He says his name is Basil. Well, he wrote it, at least."

Her tone dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, and Joel leaned in to listen as she whispered it to him. "He's an _avox_. Apparently, that means you wronged the Capitol and are punished by becoming a tongueless servant."

Ava shivered at the last bit, and Joel felt a cold sensation go up to his spine. Not having a tongue would be horrible! And what did he do to deserve such a fate? He didn't look like a criminal, did he? Maybe he was a rebel. Would they put rebels on the trains with them? Or was there an order to what crimes went to what jobs? Ugh, the Capitol was so _confusing_!

 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Joel's head whipped around to see Basil wrench Ava's pancakes off of the stove, the batter blackened to a crisp. Ava's face dropped and she rushed to her work, the batter caked to the bottom of the pan. "Oh no!"

Joel struggled not to laugh at her comical disappointment. Ava tried to scrape the batter off of the pan, but it stubbornly stuck on. "Ava, I could make breakfast if you want a cooked meal. I mean, I did do it a lot back at home..."

Ava turned to him, the tragedy of the pancakes already forgotten. "Do you know how to make croissants?"

 **Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

She watched the mountains swallow the train up whole, letting the sky disappear from view. Ashira was out of sight from the world. She wasn't sure if she liked it that way or not.

Her district partner was humming quietly to himself, drawing a picture of something with a pencil that he had managed to dig up from somewhere inside of the train. Ashira leaned over and looked at it, seeing the leering, smirking face of their mentor. "That looks exactly like Pollux!"

"Shh-shh!" Corey whispered between bursts of laughter, stuffing it into his pocket as Pollux came into view, holding a glass of wine and staring angrily into the distance. "We can't let him know yet, can we?"

She agreed and stood up, nodding politely as she walked past a muttering Pollux to her room. From what she could see, they were nearing the Capitol soon. She couldn't forget the golden chain in her room when they left the train, that would wreck her mother completely.

 _She'll be wrecked if I die…_

She grabbed the golden chain and ran out of the room, colliding with someone and crashing onto the floor. "Oops! Are you okay?"

The person who Pollux had called an avox - well, combined with a few curses, but she had gotten the message - nodded painfully, opening her eyes to see a scatter of utensils all over the floor. She put her hands to her mouth and breathed heavily, trying to pick them all up. Ashira bent down and helped her, grabbing a few that had skidded to the side of the hallway. "I'm so sorry for doing this! Is there anything I can do to help?"

The avox shook her head, pushing me away kindly as she stood up with the handful of utensils. She gestured towards the dining room, then pointed at me before pointing at the front of the train. Ashira nodded and bowed a little, smiling gratefully towards her. "Well, I'm glad that I didn't hurt you. You want me to go to the front of the train?"

The avox nodded, waving goodbye wistfully as Ashira walked towards to the front of the train. The avox seemed lonely, for some reason. It would be, not being able to talk like Pollux had said and doomed to being a servant. She would never be able to fit in with anyone else other than her own kind.

Ashira shivered and quickened her pace, holding the golden chain tightly. She had thankfully managed to keep a hold of it through the collision.

The golden chain suddenly gleamed in a light, and Ashira squinted to see the clearest water that she had ever seen. Oh, oh, oh, the Capitol… it was beautiful! It was! How could a person remember they were going into the Games when that lake was as calm as a mirror and the buildings looked like dreams?

 **And… done! What did you think of this chapter? We're now into the capitol (woohoo!) so we'll be able to go faster now ;) Also, I'm sure I used first person somewhere where I shouldn't have XD oops! Hope you liked this chapter, and leave a review on what you thought of the tributes!**

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	10. Training: Looking for Answers

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

I swung the sword around my head, weaving it around the dummy with ease. Back and forth it went, the blade dancing around the defenceless dummy. I paused, then stabbed it into the heart of the dummy and smiled as it sliced through the back of the dummy, the plastic cracking as I did so. At least the dummy would stay still. If it didn't, I'd probably be at a complete loss for this weapon. I didn't know how to fight with a sword! The Eternal Sun only taught agents knife skills and a few other essential skills for their missions in the field. A broadsword was never an ideal weapon to assassinate a person with.

I stepped away from the dummy and walked towards the knives, the instructor at the station looking weary as I did so. We hadn't even made it to lunch yet, but almost every tribute had found their way to the knife stations. Actually, I had no need to work on my knife skills. From what I could see of some of the other tributes, it was best to overshadow myself and hide amongst the crowd. I didn't need to give away my position, now did I?

I walked past the game makers' room up above, where a dozen men and a few women, young and old alike, stood around the room, watching everyone below them. I guess that they thought that as long as they were that much higher than any other tribute, they would be safe from an attack. They were fools. Anyone with half a mind could easily figure out that a carefully placed arrow would assassinate at least one if not two. Either force fields were expensive, windows were out of style, or they all liked to live on the edge. Perhaps it was so that they could monitor the tributes more. After all, it was hard to listen in through hidden mics when everything was getting torn to pieces.

I stood below them and listened in, trying to see if I could get anything of value from their conversation. After all, there wasn't any barrier to stop the noise from drifting over to me. Was it really that bad to try to find out anything about the arena?

I stood still and listened, my ears perked for there conversation. "Is there… entertainment… roar!"

There was a burst of laughter, and I nodded slowly to myself. Obviously, they weren't interested in telling each other anything about the arena. It was more beneficial to me to work on other skill sets.

I walked over to the medical station and sat down with a small boy, listening to the instructor show us how to wrap a wound. I watched the wound get wrapped around and around, the fake blood soaking into the bandage.

 _The blood dripped down the grandmother's face, the bullet having already embedded itself into the brain. I watched her cold, dead eyes glare at us before she collapsed, a squelching sound coming from the body as she fell onto the floor. Oh, oh, oh, the blood, the blood, it was everywhere!_

I stood up and walked away from the station, fighting the urge not to puke. I gagged as I thought of the memory, and tried to remain calm. I had to. I had to. I had to.

 _Oh, why did… wounds have to be so messy?_

 **Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

I launched the ax into the air, the handle swinging round and round before it positively crashed into the target. The target gave a wobble, then collapsed to the ground, the ax still embedded into the wall. I smiled and dusted myself off, yanking the ax out with ease. I still had it after my two days of not wielding one. It was so strange not to have one in my hand after all of these years, it was almost an extension of my arm, like another hand. I needed to have one in the arena. If not, I would probably go wild with anger.

The room seemed to fill with whispers of hatred, envy, and awe, all surrounding me as I turned away from the axes. I noted in satisfaction that people now were shrinking away from me as I walked past them. That was good. A good reputation never hurt anyone.

I looked at the pair from Ten, noting that both of them were working away at the fire station. They were next on my list. The girls from Two and Four had agreed easily when I had first asked them, especially after I demonstrated to them my strength with the weights.

I walked towards the pair from Ten, standing above them and waiting for one of them to look up. It was the girl who looked up first, watching me apprehensively before nudging her district partner. "Joel, we've got company."

The boy looked up, paling slightly as he glanced up at me. "Um, hi?"

I smiled slightly, standing up and pointing at the two girls that I had gotten. "We're making an alliance to make it through the Games. And we'd like both of you to join. If you do, you've got guaranteed protection from us until the top eight, where we split up and go it alone. Deal?"

I let the two ponder my offer for a minute, glancing over them to watch the game makers sitting up in that rooms of theirs. They seemed mildly interested by our exchange, and some of them pointed at the two girls waiting over by the rock wall. That was good. If our alliance got attention from the game makers, we might get some immunity from traps and mutts in the Games. I didn't want to be eaten by a bear just because the game makers thought we weren't interesting enough. If these two joined the alliance, it would be big enough to generate interest for our group. And if we generated interest in the Capitol...

The girl nodded slowly, standing up to shake my hand and smile, while the boy took longer. I waited for a minute as he considered a bit longer, then left with the girl. "If you don't want to join us, you could say so!"

The boy looked as if he was about to say something, then settled back down onto the floor. He turned away from us and started to work on his fire again, starting to gain sparks. I walked off with Ava, going towards the other girls. We were an official alliance now. And with our strength, there was no way the game makers would overlook us.

 **Joel Fletcher, 14, District Ten Male**

I worked away at the fire, making sure that it kept going. A merry blaze was starting to spring up, and the trainer was looking rather impressed by my prowess.

I looked up at the clock and saw that there was around an hour before we'd be heading back to our floors. It was so high up in the District Ten floor, you could see the Capitol and everyone in it for miles and miles upon end. I didn't like to be high up. Not even the water tower in our small town was that high. There was something… menacing about heights. It was as if us humans weren't supposed to build that high, to live above the clouds. I would be grateful if the arena was flat. It wouldn't do to be on a mountain.

And what of the arena? Did the game makers leave any hints for it around the training center? If so, they'd probably hide it in subtle forms, like in survival skills and other things. It would be good to figure out the arena before we went into it ourselves. I wanted to be able to train for it, rather than stumble around blindly, going to every station and learning lackluster skills in an attempt to learn everything.

I glanced around the training center, noting the high rock wall at the center. Hopefully, that didn't mean we would be stuck on a mountain. I didn't want to climb up a cliff face, clinging for dear life to the rock. But then there were the shelters, and instead of materials that you would expect, like branches, there were tarps and long grass. Was that a clue? Or was it another trick?

I looked at another station and noted how the boy from Four was digging through the ground for water, albeit between coughs. Now that, that _had_ to be a clue. You didn't put that much effort into a station without having a meaning for it. And after looking at the girl from Seven fight mutts in the corner, it seemed that we'd be going into a dry and hot arena.

So be it, then. I'd work at the water finding station for the rest of the day.

 **Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

I yawned as I walked into the training center, rubbing my eyes as I watched the few others in the center start to studiously work on more skills. We were all just coming into the room, and from the looks of it, they were streaming in by the minute. When it was the day before the private sessions would start and the tributes would first be tested, you could bet that everyone, even Adira, was going to be working hard on honing any skills that they wanted to show to the game makers. Even if the private sessions seemed to be useless, just a tool to help Capitolites bet on what tributes were going to do well and to display potential victors, it still felt like it was something to work for. In a way, it was a first try at the Games, a chance to see how you would do when you were thrown into the arena with the other twenty-three tributes. Even if it meant nothing anyway, I still wanted a high score. I wanted people to believe in me.

"Attention, tributes!" A low pitched voice emitting from the intercom caused me to jump in surprise, and the rest of the tributes seemed equally as disturbed and intrigued by the voice. "Due to high demand by the Capitol, tributes who are willing to take time out of their day will be taken out to the public, just outside of the training center, and will be able to be observed by the general public."

I wrinkled my nose in confusion, looking at the other tributes. Why would we want to be displayed to the Capitol? Was this just something to boost ratings? If so, why wouldn't they make all of us go? Was this a trick?

Adira stood up and walked confidently towards the door, a small group of tributes reluctantly following her. I noted the District Twelve Female and the drop-dead gorgeous girl from Eight walk towards the exit, and I started to walk as well. It wasn't something to boost ratings, it was another impressions. If I went, my odds could go up in the Capitol, and that could potentially mean the game makers going easy on me when I was starving of hunger and with a leg ripped open in the arena. I had to go greet the public.

As we walked towards the exit, I noted a few tributes fall away as they saw that Adira was heading the pack. It was obvious, they were still nervous after her display yesterday with the ax. Who wouldn't be when they saw what she did to the pillar? It was providence that she had graced me with an invitation to her alliance. If I wasn't part of her group, I'd likely be with the rest of the tributes, walking back to the stations because Adira was there. There was something about her that made you feel intimidated. She wasn't a girl, she was a _victor_.

 _Don't think that, Alex. You can't dig yourself into a hole of denial until the Games begin._

The eight of us nodded as we were surrounded by a group of peacekeepers, walking in single file towards the exit. I heard a babble of voices coming from the front of the training center, and caught a glimpse of… a _sea_ of people standing outside of the center. What was this?

We walked outside and the crowd erupted, screaming at us six girls and the two boys who had decided to follow us. Something told me that cheap posters of us all would be plastered up in bedrooms around the Capitol by the end of the day.

Adira stood confidently as she walked towards the spot where we were told to stand, her hair blowing in the wind. The crowd erupted, and I walked up beside her and struck a pose. I was next to the first volunteer! If anything, this would cause the public to bet on me. They wanted to see us, they wanted to see the tributes of the Fifth Hunger Games!

 _Smile and wave, Alex. Smile and wave._

 **Hey! Another chapter in the books, and I'm happy to call this one done! Keep reading, reviewing, and get ready to sponsor soonish!**

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	11. Private Sessions: No Mercy

**Davina Sterling, 18, District One Female**

She's been waiting to enter the room ever since Benny had walked in, a brave smile on his face as he hoped to display his mediocre skills over the sword to the game makers. Truthfully, Davina knew that he didn't have a chance. Fourteen-year-old Benny didn't have the strength to impress with the raw skill, the _power_ that the game makers wanted to see from the tributes. Every year, her parents had watched the games with her, pointing out tributes and noting their strengths, but more importantly, their _weaknesses_. If you knew a person's weakness, her mother had always said, you could manipulate them into turning their strengths against themselves in an effort to make up for their weaknesses. It was the only way to win the Games - at least, the only true way to win the Games. According to her parents, if Davina was ever reaped for the Hunger Games over the starving children whose mothers had gone blind years before and fathers were crippled from their work in the mines, the only way you should win the Games was with honour. There was no grace in slaughtering twelve-year-olds.

Now that Davina came to think of it, her mother had always found an excuse to take a walk or go into the town while Davina and her father watched the Games together. And she had always come back with an excited smile on her face, almost as if she had experienced an adrenaline rush through that _run_.

She shakes her head fiercely, her red curls tumbling over her face as she throws away the memory. She would _not_ have her memories of her family tainted by secrets already revealed last year. Her mother was a good person, even if she made mistakes, and she and Dad were going to remain together. Davina was going to come back to them.

The door opens slowly as Davina jerks her head up in anticipation, and the pre-recorded voice rings throughout the room. "May the District One Female enter the room?"

The small boy from Four cringes at the tinny voice reverberating through his ears, and Davina smiles in pity for the poor guy. He's been coughing badly through the past few days, and she even offered cough drops that her escort had been kind enough to give. But he pushed them away, croaking that his mentor only wanted him to eat certain things in order to recover, and she walked away in defeat. But she's not going to get tangled up in the lives of the other tributes. She's going to show the game makers that she's stronger than any of these other tributes, however nice they may be. And she would beat the forming alliances with the other tributes. Relying on others would just hurt her, and Davina doesn't want to be hurt by anyone else. She wants to _win_.

She walks in and throws herself at one of the instructors, furiously pummeling them as hard as she can. The instructor grunts in surprise as Davina sneaks in a jab to the eye, jumping away and attempting to recover from Davina's ferocity. But Davina won't stop to let the woman recover. She can't afford to show mercy in a game of life and death.

 **Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

Alexis needs to move from her seat, to run, to hit something, to do _anything_ but sit in this blasted chair. It's been ages since Sidney went in with that confident grin which hid everything about him but his charm, and now she's alone with the remaining twenty kids. Hey, at least she is the next one up to perform her private session. She wouldn't be able to make it through the private sessions if she was from District Twelve. No wonder the game makers always gave low scores to those outer districts, they just didn't want to pay attention to another teenager displaying their attempts to impress them.

The boy from Three rubs his fingers together nervously as he looks at the doors, and Alexis studies him. He seems like the type to be friendly, the type to be part of Adira's alliance. But, then again, it was Adira who had recruited Alexis after she saw Alexis use the pickaxes as if they were an extension of her arm. It was good to be a part of an alliance, especially this one. It gave some… comfort, some reassurance to the group. If they were attacked, their allies would likely help them.

 _Unless they didn't want to bother with saving a tribute who's about to die anyway…_

She fingers her pendant, feeling the golden ball that the men from the mines had given her. Greg hadn't told her exactly how they had acquired the expensive pendant, instead dodging around the question by leaving the room when the peacekeepers had ordered them out, but Alexis suspects that the acquirement of the pendant was a bit shadier than the men would like her to believe. But they gave it to her to remember her home, and remember her home she would. If she tilts it just right, she can see the colour of her brother's hair…

The doors open once more, and she can see in the background that the instructors are hauling something covered in red and black away into the back of the room. It seems… almost human. Could Sidney have… could he have killed someone to demonstrate his skill? Could he? What in Panem's name had Sidney done during his private session?

No, Sidney wouldn't have done that. Even if Alexis hadn't been able to figure out what he wanted, it didn't mean he was that sadistic. He wouldn't kill for fun, would he?

She walks into the room confidently, grabbing one of the heavy weights inside of the room and lifting it over her head. She can almost hear a murmur of approval from the game makers as she tosses it towards a dummy, causing it to crash down onto the floor. That's good. She wants their attention all on her. She smiles and grabs the bow and arrow, aiming it carefully at the target before releasing the arrow, letting it fly towards the dummy. She is going to get a good score in these private sessions, even if it means she has to kill to do so. She's not going to be overshadowed ever again.

 **Ava Barkley, 15, District Ten Female**

She's been waiting patiently as the tributes before her walk through the doors and to their judgment, watching some saunter in leisurely and others bite their nails as they creep into the training center, but it's almost her turn. And Ava will finally be able to move from her spot and do whatever she has planned for the game makers.

But what has she planned? The past few days in the training center had just been checking out the ax and the survival stations, learning how to make a fire and to detect poisonous berries in preparation for the arena. How was that supposed to factor into her private session? How is she supposed to interweave her seemingly miscellaneous skills with one another into a seamless performance? Damn, if only she worked on this last night instead of watching that movie with Joel! The actors weren't even that good anyway!

Joel had already walked into the training center, waving goodbye to Ava nervously before he disappeared from view and assumedly performed for the game makers. She hadn't made allies with him, only really interacting with him by fawning over his cooking ability - especially those croissants, she never realized that anyone in District Ten could make anything better than her mother's bread - and watching bad movies together at night, but he seemed like a nice kid. If she had the choice, she wouldn't kill him in the arena.

The other four tributes fidget together in the large room, crossing their legs and biting their lips nervously, but Ava looks around at all of them. The girl from Twelve is silently mouthing something to herself, something that almost sounds like… singing? Anyway, it sounds great, and the girl is smiling to herself as she does it. Maybe it's to calm herself down for the private sessions, maybe it's just because she likes it, but Ava's interest is now piqued. She wants to find out more about this girl. She scoots closer along the bench to her, smiling kindly as she startles the girl from Twelve. "Hi! Your voice sounds so good, I'd never be able to do something like that. My name's Ava! What's yours?"

"Ashira," the girl whispers, and she looks down at her hands in embarrassment. "Is it, is it good? The singing, I mean?"

"Sure!" Ava laughs, nodding and pointing at the doors. "If you just did that for the game makers, you'd probably get a three for sure."

Ashira smiles slightly, biting her lip and looking up at the ceiling. "I - I don't know what I'm - I'm going to do for the ga - game makers. Maybe the pickaxes, I guess? I mean, I am from District Twelve…"

Ava nods, scratching the side of her neck as she turns towards Ashira. "You're going to be fine! Just stay calm and remember that you'll do well, and nothing will stop you. Good luck!"

Ashira's about to say something, but she's cut off by the opening of the doors and the robotic voice of the intercom ringing once more through the room. "May the District Ten Female please enter the room?"

Ava waves goodbye and runs into the room, looking around to see what she's going to do. Maybe she'll do well, and maybe she won't, but she's just going to wing it. After all, what else was thinking on your feet for?

 **Hello everyone! I'm glad to have finished this chapter, and now we are officially only a few chapters, three, to be accurate, until the bloodbath! We'll have the score reveals next chapter before the night before, and then we'll do the day of the Games before the bloodbath chapter. Exciting! I hope you enjoyed this, and it'd be cool to see some of your predictions for the featured tributes' scores! Well, here are the sponsor points ;)**

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 **Enjoy summer! (I've got one more day to go XD) until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	12. Score Reveals: Twenty Three Cannons

**Emmett Lightway, 16, District Three Male**

"Nine!"

I raise my eyebrows in surprise as the face of the girl from One flashes onto the screen, her green eyes almost staring accusingly at me as the nine flashes behind her. Then the headshot vanishes, leaving only the two women on the screen to continue recapping the scores. Hallie probably thinks that it's rather contrived to pretend to be excited over these scores that will literally do nothing to help or harm us in the Games, but it does give one a small boost of excitement. It almost feels, well, _relieving_ to know that your score is better than other tributes. Perhaps it isn't so idiotic to have scores after all. They affect a tribute's mindset before the games, for better or worse, and that outlook on your survival will be everything in the Games. Pessimists never survive the bloodbath.

"Ten!"

I gasp at the score, followed quickly by a murmur of approval from Hallie. She hadn't approved of any of the other scores, only slowly nodding and scribbling down her predictions of who would be killers and who'd die in the bloodbath, but this score must have brought her out of her calculating shell. It's nice to see another part of Hallie other than the genius. It gets rather unnerving to see a twelve-year-old girl play with lives as calmly as a game of chess.

"Nine!"

I gasp once more, watching the blissful face of the girl from Two, Alexis, float onto the screen. What was with these high scores from One and Two? First they had managed to get a four out of the boy from One, and now they were in the nines and tens! The bloodbath was going to be brutal. There was close to no way I could manage to survive with these… _killers_ in there. My only hope was to run. Run, and never look back.

"Three!" I nod, watching my score pop onto the screen. Hallie makes a strangled sound of what suspiciously sounded like laughter behind me before calmly scribbling down a placement for me, and I shudder. I was just another number to her, just another person to die off in the bloodbath. Was her outlook on other humans really so low that she didn't care she was predicting the time of their _deaths?_

"Five!"

Hallie gives a little sound of delight at her score before sitting down. Our mentor quietly congratulates her, of course; Hallie's had the Capitolite in the palm of her hand ever since the train rides. She hasn't spoken a word to me since we were on the trains, deciding to dote on Hallie like a _servant_. Did she ever think that Hallie would likely die in the bloodbath? Did our mentor _realize_ that we weren't going to come back home?

"One!"

No. She didn't. But she'd find out soon enough. They'd both find out that the Hunger Games wasn't a game. It was a _war_.

 **Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

"Seven!"

I nod slightly at the score of the girl from Four, she _was_ good with tridents after all, even if she hadn't wanted to show us in the training days. It was pretty sneaky to do something like that to her own allies, but she probably had her own reasons for hiding her skills. After all, at the end of the day, we were all out for ourselves. We wouldn't be saving each other from death if it meant our own. And that was fine by me. Why should I get mad at others when I was guilty of the same thing that they were? I hadn't shared with them how I knew how to make the blade of an ax catch fire. I didn't want to share the skills that I had learned back in the orphanage and with the rest of the lumberjacks with them, and I had no right to create a double standard. I'd even consider it a move of a worthy ally. You _knew_ that they had something good if they had something to hide.

"Two!"

The face of the boy from Five seemed to sneer at me as it fades away onto the screen, and I fought back the urge to shiver. There was something… _unnerving_ about the guy, almost as if he was planning my funeral. So be it, then. If I could, I'd get rid of him in the bloodbath.

"Three!"

I could almost _hear_ the whimper from the girl from Five, and I watch her fade away into the screen. Even if she was somehow better than her district partner, which I doubted, she had no self confidence whatsoever. Anyone who hid in the middle of a station when I walked by them was no threat in the bloodbath.

"Two!"

I nodas the nervous boy from Six appears, watching his shifty eyes dart back and forth on the screen. He probably was at a loss of what to do when he didn't have people around him. That was what happened when you lived in a district of millions. You didn't know what it was like to be alone.

"Four!"

The girl from Six seems tough, almost as if she had grown up fighting for her life every day. But she hadn't known what it was like to have _no one_ , she didn't know what it was like to only have yourself to care for you, she didn't know what it was like to be unloved. But I did. And I had survived. And I would do it again. No matter what, I was coming back home, whether they wanted me or not. Adira Hemlock was going to survive the Hunger Games.

"Three!"

Leif nods and smiles bravely, getting a quick pat on the back from Maddie. He had surprisingly bit back his tears and went through training like a man, not even shivering when I talked to him. It was like the Games had matured him. Leif wasn't a child anymore.

"Eleven!"

I hear a huge roar from outside of our window, and I peered down with an incredulous Maddie to see a town square filled to the brim with Capitolites. When they see us peering down, they positively _roar_ , screaming for me, screaming for the volunteer, screaming the number eleven. That was when I realize, with a bit of a jolt, I wasn't just a volunteer anymore. I was an _icon_.

 **Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

"Six!"

The boy from Nine appears on the screen, smiling bravely towards the camera, but I pay little attention to him. Why would you bother with both tributes from District Eight getting fours and a six from the district of wheat when someone had managed an _eleven_? How could I focus on that when someone the same age as me had proven themselves to be almost _perfect_ in the art of maiming, of destroying, of _murdering_ other children?

"Two!"

Corey shows me the drawing he's just made of the girl from Seven, and I gasp at the fire that's so visible in her eyes from just a few strokes of Corey's pencil. Her hair positively _shines_ in the moonlight that he's put her under, and I can almost hear the trees surrounding the volunteer whisper to me. "Corey, you're an amazing drawer. You should definitely become an artist, make things, something to support this talent."

Corey smiles, pointing at the screen. "If I ever win, I want to become a game maker. Imagine making the arena perfectly for the tributes, positioning everything just right? Wouldn't it be wonderful to just make pure beauty for the tributes? There's a garden in the middle of the Seam, you know. I go every day to help prune the flowers and care for them. We have to brush off the coal dust that falls onto the flowers, but it's worth it. It's heartwarming to see something so delicate, so _beautiful_. Did you say you were from the Seam? You do have the colouring, you know."

I blush nervously and push back my hair, feeling the light brown curls as I looked away from Corey. "Um, well..."

"Six!"

"I'm actually one of the merchant's daughters." There, I said it. At least Corey knew the truth now. He looks at me with confusion, looking at my colouring, my hair, everything about me that just screamed _Seam! Seam!_

"Five!"

Corey nods slowly and backs slightly away, back towards Pollux. Pollux laughs nastily at the screen as he sees the boy from Ten, throwing a piece of his weird popcorn at the screen, and I shiver slightly. I've been pushed away again. Oh, why can't I ever _fit in_?

"Two!"

Corey looks down at me, at my hair, at my clothes, then picks up his notebook once more. He starts to doodle quickly, and I turn away once more. He's gone into his mind once more, just like how everyone retreats from me when they realize I'm not one of them. Oh, oh, why can't I just be like the others? Why can't I be normal?

"One!"

The girl from Eleven fades away, and I look drearily out of the window to see the excited Capitolites cheer as the score rings throughout the square. What was so exciting about a one? Didn't they know it just meant that the kid would die? Capitolites could be confusing. But at least they could pick a side. I couldn't even decide if I hated them or not.

"Four!"

Corey laughs at his tousled brown hair on the screen, blending together well with his Seam tones. "They managed to take the worst picture of me that they could, didn't they? At least I'm smiling. I look happy."

"Four!"

I look over at Corey, who pauses in his laughter to stare solemnly at me. Even if we might be divided in class, we were still in the same district. We had _something_ to make us similar. And as the television turns off, we squeeze each other's hands tightly.

 **Another one in the books! What did you think of all of this angst and sadness and interestingness? Leave a review! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you like it as well, guys! Keep reading, and until the night before the games, TheAmazingJAJ**


	13. Before the Bloodbath: Just a Game

**Ava Barkley, 15, District Ten Female**

She can't fathom the fact that the Games are tomorrow.

It's been a while since Ava last cried, but the night thus far had brought her the closest to that despicable action she's been since then. Joel refused to speak at dinner, pushing around his meal half-heartedly and biting back a tear when he smelled a scent of the classic butter rolls of Ten. It's been so long since Ava's had a butter roll. She wished that she had eaten them more. She wished that she spent more time with her family. She wished that she could have just gone into the prairies of Ten, with the rich flowers that those cows loved so and the sweet bluegrass that lined the ground. She wished that she could have sat down in the middle of a field and smiled, ignoring the pale canyons to the west that marked the other side of Ten and the stunted, muddy rivers to the east that marked the divide between District Ten and Eleven. But she hadn't, and _well everything's just screwed up now, isn't it?_

She looked back at the room and watched her Capitol mentor watch Joel mournfully, caressing a small picture in the palm of her hand as she watched the small boy. Ava wasn't able to bear seeing them. She had left, climbing up the few stairs that marked the border between Ten's suite and the main hallway, and then had walked into the elevator and waited for the elevator to reach the top floor before running onto the roof and smelling the sweet flowers and plants that lined the side of the roof. It was beautiful.

She's currently sitting on the top of a plant holder, dexterously weaving flowers in and out of her hair to braid them in the way her mother had always done for her when she was young and had always wanted flowers in her hair when she went to school. It had been nice just having her mother's attention on her, with none of her siblings messing up the moment. It was just the two of them, and Ava was always a little more than happy when she tore down the road towards her school. She had been grateful.

The wind blows through her hair and some of the flowers fall out, blowing away in the wind towards the Capitol. They fly towards the dancing lights of the city below her, and Ava smiles to see her precious flowers so gracefully descend into the city of lights.

She walks towards the door of the roof, opening it and walking towards the elevator. As she waits for it to come up to the top floor, it finally opens and lets out the girl from Eight, who looks away from Ava as she hurries onto the roof. Ava nods silently, pressing the button for Ten and letting the elevator carry her away. The tributes all had a tryst to keep with the roof. They had one last tryst to keep with their home.

 **Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

It's been a long night, far too long for one who should be easily winning the games, for Sidney. But when a person knew that they were heading into the Hunger Games, a pageant that had already killed dozens before him, they found it hard to sleep. Alexis seemed to still be awake, silently keeping vigil for whomever she had in the district. But she hadn't come out into the living room; Alexis hadn't even talked to Sidney ever since the train rides, and he continues to sip the hot cocoa that he had whipped up for himself. Clay had drunk gallons of the stuff as he had mentored the two for the past few days, reminding them of what they had to do to survive the Games.

 _But no one ever truly survived the Games. Not even Clay had left intact; Sidney had seen something leave his eyes the instant he had slipped out of the dust of the Coliseum._

He knew that his parents wouldn't be sleeping tonight. The two had always been night owls, staying awake and walking through the rooms until they gave a gasp of delight and rushed towards the door, Sidney and their spouse easily forgotten in the excitement of another mission. Because when you were addicted to your work, your family could be thrown away as an expense for serving the Capitol.

Not that Sidney had minded very much. He had learned to cope with sleeping alone in their house, silently turning off the lights and treading up the stairs towards his small room. But it had always felt very large at night when he was small, when he didn't know why he couldn't hear his parents breathing on the other side of the wall and why they never responded to his pleas for help when he fancied that he had seen a fearsome monster lurking in the dark corners of his dresser. He had been a fool when he was younger. It was easier to learn the truth, to realize the reason why he was alone at night was that his parents were righteously serving the Capitol in their missions.

 _But was the Capitol really worth saving?_

He had always hid the truth from everyone he knew. School, friends, sports, all were part of the facade that the Fawkes family were just as normal as the Masons living right next to them. But it had been a facade. His true life had always been tied to the Capitol, to tense moments in the night when he waited for his parents to return and when he had finally received the chance to come along with his parents. It had _always_ been the fact that he would be a spy, that he would serve the Capitol as well, that he would be an even better assassin than his parents, that was true.

Was it?

Bah, two o'clock in the morning was no time for Sidney to ponder the mysteries of his life. He'd have plenty of time to do that when he became a victor.

But the nagging thought in the back of his brain that whispers _but what if you don't?_ continues to eat away at his haggard mind.

 **Joel Fletcher, 14, District Ten Male**

Joel just wants to go home.

It had been the beef that the servers had brought out for their last night in the Capitol that had made Joel fall into silence, only able to comprehend the fact that he was heading into the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games! His brothers would have laughed if they ever heard that Joel, the bookworm, the coward, the slothful farmworker, would have to fight for his life in a game that he hadn't even attempted to get into. Joel had always enjoyed games with his brothers; willing to do anything to taste victory: and rub it in their faces. But the fact that he had to _kill_ , that he had to _murder_ innocent children in order to win, was the reason why he didn't want to play. He didn't want to win a game where even the victor left broken.

So he pushed away the meal that he had had with his family the night before the reapings and disappeared into the floor, trying to find a place to sleep, a place to run, a place to hide, a place to _cry_. Because the tears won't stop themselves from splashing onto the floor. So he lets them fall, the salty drops merging into a small puddle as he buries his face in his hands and shudders. _Why_ did he have to be the one to be reaped this year? _Why_ did he have to die in a game for entertainment? And _why_ wouldn't he be able to win?

Why couldn't he? Why couldn't he kill others to win?

But fourteen was too young to win the games. Everyone knew it. Even if he was about to turn fifteen, he was still three years and a hundred pounds down on the rest of the competitors. He had no chance against people who had been working in forests their entire lives, who had used a weapon that he didn't even know what was for.

His family would be holding a silent vigil right now, talking quietly about how Joel was a good son and a good brother and a good friend and how he didn't deserve to die. Because when you were fourteen-years-old and about to die, that's what happened. You pushed away the thought because you didn't want to believe it. You didn't want to realize that you weren't going to see the sun rise in days to come.

 _Would the arena have sunrises like District Ten?_

He pushes away the tears and stands up firmly, watching the moonlight illuminate the building from his viewpoint. He won't let himself cry in the games. He's going to fight until his blood splashes onto his body and he can't see his hands punching, moving, trying to win. Because he won't give up. He's going to come home, _even if only those above fifteen ever won the games_.

Screw them all. He'd consider the Games a birthday present for himself. He's going to live until he's fifteen. He's going to survive. And he's not going to become another cannon. He won't let himself disappear.

 **Emmett Lightway, 16, District Three Female**

He yawns as the alarm beeps in his face, trying to think of what he has to do today. Oh, wait. Crap.

Emmett throws aside the covers and walks out to the living room, his mind already a mess. Because he's going to die. He's going to die.

 _He's going to die._

Hallie smiles as he comes into the living room, still writing down a few more figures. "Hey, ally!"

 _Wait, what?_

"You're my ally, Emmett." Hallie huffs impatiently, waiting for me to come over to the table. "I've seen your school records. You're smart. And smart means that you can help me with any mutts in the arena. I know where to go, we just have to make sure that there's nothing else there. Got it?"

Emmett nods slowly, trying not to smile at the earnest little girl. Even with all of her genius and haughty air, Hallie was just twelve. She didn't deserve to die in the Hunger Games. She didn't deserve to be ripped apart by a mutt. Because for all of her front, he could see her hand trembling as she put her pen down and started to eat. She was just as scared as the rest of them to die.

He eats slowly, savouring the scrambled eggs and how the melted cheese fits in just perfectly with the egg. There were even strawberries on the side of the table, and he started to nibble on one. The berry seemed to just _ooze_ with juice and flavour, and Emmett calmly eats another while he lets his taste buds run amok. Pretty good for a last meal.

He doesn't resist when the two are directed kindly towards the doors. He half-expected for them to leave earlier. After all, it was just a game for the Capitolites. Why wouldn't they want to start early? It was their game, after all.

In District Three, the only sport that was able to hold Emmett's interest was horse racing. He loved watching the beautiful creatures race around the racetrack, the tiny jockeys pushing their horses to the limit. He had begged his mother to let him become a jockey after the first race he watched; every kid in Three who loved animals wanted the job. Because who didn't want to lean into an animal and urge it to go faster than ever when life in Three was just that; everyone urging everyone to go faster than their limit.

 _But what if they want to stop?_

He smiles as the bright light of the morning sun swallows the little group as they head towards the helicarrier, viewing the rest of the tributes slowly processing towards the helicraft. Funny, the closer he got to the games, the quicker he wanted it to be over. Humans always hated pain, always loudly proclaimed to others that they hated feeling any sensation of the feeling. But when it came down to it, they'd rather feel pain than boredom.

And he just wants to get the pain over with as quickly as possible.

 **Davina Sterling, 18, District One Female**

She watches the rest of the tributes file onto the helicarrier, all nervously fingering their sides and watching each other with veiled gazes. Because when you were sent into a deathmatch, you didn't exactly trust anyone else in the arena. You didn't trust your future killer. That was what made your cannon boom in the sky. That was what lost your chance at coming back home.

She watches the boy from Two confidently smile, looking back at the ground to watch the tiny figures near the landing pad wave goodbye to the peacekeepers on the helicraft. He had always seemed to be different than any of his other compatriots. He seemed smarter, he seemed stronger than anyone else on the helicraft. He was a threat. Who could trust someone who had that light smile heading off to his death?

She touches the silver locket on her neck, feeling the picture hidden inside as the helicraft starts to lift off and the group are all whisked away towards wherever the arena might be. Her mother is standing on the left, her father grinning merrily on the right, and the twins sitting calmly down on either side of Davina. She always looked happy in photographs. Most would call her photogenic, but that was only because they didn't see the messy hair and the crooked tilt of her head. They saw the glow of her happiness, the life just _bursting_ from her laughter, and their eyes were blinded to any negative sides of the photo. How could you not like a picture where the person was just as happy as it made you feel?

The girl from Seven sits calmly in her seat, watching the rest of the tributes squirm and fidget as the helicraft flies ever higher into the sky. She doesn't seem to have a care in the world. Davina watches her eyes and, sure enough, a slight fear fills the girl inside. But she won't let anyone else see it. Fear was a weakness, and if the only volunteer _ever_ , the very first volunteer in the games for that matter, showed fear to the rest of them, what were they supposed to think? How could they have a chance of surviving if a person who willingly stepped into the games could just as easily have their cannon boom tonight and their face show in the sky?

The helicraft flies through the air, and Davina peers through her window, where she's conveniently strapped in order to make sure that the tributes didn't do anything rash before they reached the arena, and sees the helicraft skim through the clouds. It almost looks like she can touch the beautiful clouds, all shades of white and red and yellow and laughter and love and life and soon enough tears are streaming down her face, dripping onto her lap as she watches the clouds pass away into the sky.

 **Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

She closes her eyes and waits for the helicraft to land, knowing that the tributes are almost to the arena. The peacekeepers have been muttering to themselves for the past few minutes about how they would escort the tributes off of the helicraft and to their stylists. But all she does is nod silently and hum to herself, silently wishing to be back home. It would be nice at home right now. Her mother would be making tea and happily talking with her husband, and her grandmother would be cheerfully complaining about how the humid weather this week was hurting her bones. She'd give anything to go home. Anything.

A tear rolls down her cheek and splashes onto the floor, and Ashira lets the mark on her face stay as the helicraft finally lands. She knows that she's going to die. Why would she think anything otherwise? She doesn't deserve to live with all of the other kids when they had done so much more to survive and when she was just the girl from Twelve who didn't fit in. Why would she even try?

 _But why wouldn't she?_

She climbs out of the helicraft thirteenth, being carefully escorted by one of the peacekeepers towards a small door which they both duck under to get to the arena. She's never heard of how the tributes get into the arena. She's only seen the Games started with all of the tributes standing on their plates, with no clue to give Ashira of how they got there. Would they be walked into the arena? Would they be let into it?

Her stylist coos in delight as Ashira walks into the room, quickly rushing her and taking one last check for her measurements. "Hello, darling! Oh, the arena outfits will be simply beautiful this year! Even Therone has approved of them. Therone! The woman, the myth, the legend!"

Ashira strongly suspects that Therone wouldn't be very pleased to hear her name spoken in that level of excitement.

The stylist kisses the air as she brings… a dress - a dress? A dress? Really? - into the room, showing Ashira the grey to black pattern that seemed like it would hug her body uncomfortably once she stepped into it. "We were allowed to design anything for our tributes, as long as it was beautiful. Look at the music notes! Aren't they just a _statement_?"

Ashira gasps as she looks at herself in the mirror, seeing her drab brown hair seem to almost, almost _glow_ in the dress. The dress seamlessly transitioned from ashy-grey to coal-black from top to bottom, and she twirls around in delight to see it spin in the air. It almost looks… _beautiful_ on her.

The stylist beams to see the shock on Ashira's face, impulsively giving the startled teen a quick squeeze. "Come back in your beautiful dress, my darling. Come back home for your district."

Ashira nods, looking towards the tube in the middle of the room. An unfamiliar voice rings throughout the room, bidding her to step inside and wait for it to lift her into the arena. She nods, stumbling towards the tube and climbing inside. Will she live? Will she die?

 _Will anyone even care?_

The tube rises, and Ashira waits for it to bring her into the arena. She doesn't want to die.

She doesn't want to die.

She doesn't want to be forgotten.

She doesn't want to be caught in the middle again.

She doesn't want to be abandoned.

She doesn't want to be neither one nor the other, neither Seam or Town, neither dead or alive. But she has one thing in common with the rest of the tributes.

When the blade digs into their bodies, they all bleed the same. They all die in a veil of red.

 **The bloodbath is next! Code red! Code red! Maximum death ocurring! Seriously though, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Everyone got the same number of povs to shine in the Capitol, so now we can truly head into the Hunger Games. What did you think? Any interesting points in the povs? WHO WILL DIE? Leave a review to tell me what you think!**

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 **Enjoy summer and your tributes! (While you still can ;)) And after the bloodbath, you can officially start sponsoring people! I hope you like that, because you just have to PM me for something you want with your points, and you can get it! Now, if you really, really, REALLY want to get something big but don't have the points for it, I can consider letting my other stories count as part of the sponsor points if you review them. But if you don't care, no sweat, and enjoy the ride! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	14. Bloodbath: Under the Beating Sun

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

He rises into the arena, and the first thing that Sidney notes is the huge, no, _gigantic_ building in front of him. It seems to be something close to a hotel, even with a little sign and tinny music coming from inside the building. He turns away and stares at the rest of the tributes, all focusing on the cornucopia. He can see the glint of steel hidden away in the darkness of the cornucopia and, if he looks closely enough, he can see backpacks hidden in the tufts of faded grass surrounding the cornucopia. And just as he notes a rustling movement inside the cornucopia and leans in closer, the timer starts.

 _59…_

 _58…_

 _57…_

He turns backwards to note the rest of the arena, and a huge… _giraffe_ is standing placidly behind the tributes and chomping on the leaves of the largest tree he's ever seen. Is this the savanna? Have the tributes been put into the savanna for this year's games?

 _45…_

 _44…_

 _43…_

Would there be lions too? Huge lions, ones to rip the tributes to shreds? And as Sidney squints into the distance, he can fancy he hears a roar in the distance.

 _32…_

 _31…_

 _30…_

Okay, he has to focus on the cornucopia. He can see the girl from Seven, Adira, on the other side of the cornucopia, fixing her position and readying herself to charge into the cornucopia. Her three allies are dispersed throughout the rest of the circle, the girl from Two standing next to an apprehensive Alexis, and the girls from Four and Ten side to side, close to him. Whatever her does, Sidney _cannot_ run into one of them. Inviting one of them to kill him would only invite them all. He has to grab something else, find something easy to carry, something that he bring into wherever he's going.

 _27…_

 _26…_

 _25…_

He sees the glint of a knife pack in the grass close to him; a pack that no one else has noticed yet. He'll grab that and run into the savanna, away from the rest of the tributes and safe in solitude. It's good that Mother and Father have taught him to stay calm in situations like these. He would have never been able to focus through the buzz of terror running through most of the tributes if he hadn't been taught those breathing exercises in his training at home.

 _13…_

 _12…_

 _11…_

An earth-shattering trumpet rings throughout the air, and Sidney almost jumps in the air as he sees an elephant walk past the tributes. It surprises him, but he manages to remain calm and stay on his feet. The same can't be said for the boy from Eight. He jumps into the air, surprised by the noise, and slips on his pedestal on the way down.

 _Boom!_

The sounds rings throughout the air, and the elephant is startled enough to stampede away into the savanna, trumpeting a sound of danger. The pieces of the boy are still flying through the air, some landing on Sidney's tuxedo and dress shoes, and he almost retches as he recalls the smell of blood that he had always noted slightly on his parents when they came back in the night. It's _on him_ now, and more will be coming soon enough. You can't stay clean during the Games.

 _5…_

 _4…_

 _3…_

Oh goodness, it's starting already, they're all about to die. He takes one last deep breath and prepares to run towards the knives, not focusing on the blood. Mother and Father have taught him to overlook the messy stuff, it's just been his nervousness and fright from being in the Games that have made him so scared, so jumpy. He'll calm down now. He's going to survive. He's going to survive. He's going to survive.

And as the gong blares, he runs towards the knives and pushes his thoughts away one last time.

 **Ava Barkley, 15, District Ten Female**

She resists the urge to scream as she runs into the boy from One, scrambling to get away from the terrified teen. But he doesn't stop, searching frantically around in the grass for a weapon, for a weapon to _stab_ her with. She searches right along with him, finding a small knife hidden in the dust and attacking the boy with it. He doesn't stop screaming as she tackles him, skidding into the dust and slashing his neck with it. But he soon goes limp as she slices one of his jugular veins, the blood flowing out freely onto the dust. And as he pales and stills on the ground, she scrambles up and runs into the cornucopia. She needs to find an ax, she needs to find an ax if she wants to survive.

She watches as the girl from Five trips on a root and crashes into the ground, screaming as she turns around to attempt to get up and away from the bloodbath. But Alexis flies towards her before she has the chance to stand, twisting her neck with an audible snap before dropping the girl on the ground and vanishing into the cornucopia. Ava trails after her, trying to find an ax. Are they at the back? Where are they?

Adira is already there, grabbing one and nodding as she passes Ava. Ava watches her sprint back into the fray, ready to attack anyone in her path. The boy from Four hacks violently once more and vomits before being attacked viciously by Adira, his skull splitting and splattering onto the ground, his _brains_ peeking out of his head as he falls into the dust.

Ava retches.

Ava runs out soon after, looking for somewhere to go, someplace to find the rest of her allies and wait it out until the bloodbath is over. But Adira seems to have no intention of leaving, fighting viciously with the boy from Eleven. Ava watches the two spar it out, mild cuts dripping blood onto the ground, before the boy from Eleven ducks and slashes her deeply on the arm. Adira jumps back and attempts to stab the boy back, but he vanishes into the rising sun, running straight towards the grasslands that they've been placed in. Adira doubles back and swears before going after the girl from Six, descending on her with a vengeance that even scares Ava. But Ava has no time to mourn before she feels a sharp pain in her back. She looks down and sees a spear protruding from her side, the spear having passed through her entire body. She can taste blood in her mouth as she collapses to the ground.

The girl from One looks down at Ava critically before wrenching the spear out once more, causing another spasm of pain to run through her injured side. "Agh!"

The girl from One stabs her once more, this time in the arm, and Ava looks down in horror as the bone is gashed against the steel tip of the spear before cracking entirely. It feels like someone's dropped a weight on her arm and left it on, and the girl from One thinks Ava fatally injured as she trots away. Ava screams once more, looking helplessly into the sky as if it will save her from bleeding out. Only the sun looks back at her cruelly, beaming down on her wounds and seeming to magnify her pain even more.

Will her family be watching? Is she finally the center of attention, her siblings gasping in horror as she bleeds out onto the baked earth? Or are they looking away, refusing to see their sister bleed out?

Does anyone care that she's about to die?

Tears start to wet her cheeks, splashing onto the baked earth before fading into the earth. She notices a small flower below her, one that had struggled to push against the cruel ground and find its way into the sunlight.

She'll let her final tears water the flower. And maybe it's delicate beauty will survive the bloodbath. Maybe.

And as she gives one final gasp, her eyes film over and close one last time.

 **Davina Sterling, 18, District One Female**

She walks away from the corpse of the girl from Ten, wiping some of the blood off of the spear she found and looking away. The bloodbath was still raging on, and all around her were raging teens, attacking one another in order to survive. She shudders as she sees the boy from Two attacks someone who's fighting for his knives, stabbing them over and over again in the side. That could have been Wonder or Lux. She never wants them to experience this. They don't need to lose their innocence yet.

An arrow whistles through the air and Davina ducks, letting the arrow sink into the ground beside her. She turns to face her assailant, finding the girl from Four snarling at her. "Give it your best shot, One."

Davina charges, throwing the spear at the girl and ducking when the girl aims an arrow at her face. But Four is quick, jumping away and snatching the fallen spear. She aims it at Davina carefully, making sure that Davina can't get past her without getting hurt herself. But she hasn't thought it through. She hasn't realized that there's a knife waiting at Davina's feet, just _itching_ to be thrown at her.

Davina snatches up the knife and throws it at the girl's heart, clipping her shoulder and snatching the spear as the girl drops it. The girl shrieks in pain and wrenches the knife out, the blood staining her snow-white dress. "Agh! I'll kill you for that, One!"

Davina doesn't give her the chance to, running in the strange flesh-colored mesh that her stylist had adorned with hundreds of diamonds into the cornucopia. She'll draw the girl in and kill her off before heading into the hotel and finding something else to wear. At least the stylists had curled her hair. It wasn't getting stuck in her face, bobbing back and forth around her head as she ran into the cornucopia. The boys this year were lucky. They didn't have to run in these dresses.

The girl from Four follows Davina in, and Davina launches another knife at her, embedding itself into her arm. The girl falls to the ground and Davina pounces, pinning her down and readying the knife to slit her throat. It would be rather a merciful death; she'd seen how Maddie, the victor of the Third Games, had viciously torn apart her opponent in the finale. Davina didn't want to do that. She just wanted to go home. And that's why she misses the first time she brings the knife down, her trembling hands skinning the side of her face and gushing blood from the shallow cut. Davina swears and readies the knife again, bringing it down. But she doesn't see the girl from Seven attack her with the ax until it's almost too late.

 **Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

She swings the ax at the girl from One, knocking her with the butt of the ax off of her ally. The girl from Four, Grace, jumps to her feet and clutches the side of her face, letting Adira walk ahead of her and corner the girl from One. She was a sly one, the One was; she'd already killed Ava. Adira had watched it out of the corner of her eye as she attacked the girl from Six, but she hadn't been able to help her out due to the fact that the girl from Six had a sword in her hands. It had taken entirely too long to chop off her hand and stab her in the gut, but she had taken care of her.

 _But not soon enough._

Adira launches her axe at the girl, missing as One dodges behind a container. Adira swears as the ax embeds itself into the soft metal of the cornucopia and leaps back, grabbing a sword to her side and readying herself as the girl from One prepares to charge. Adira barely holds her back with the sword, the metal shrieking as it clashed against the spear. Adira's long, long yellow dress doesn't help the struggle, getting caught under small containers before Adira tugs it out, still desperately trying to fight the girl from One. Why is this taking so long?

Grace throws her own spear at the girl from One, narrowly missing Adira before hitting the side of the girl. She screams in pain and kicks Adira away, yanking it out and clutching the bloody wound. Adira struggles back up and grabs her now-fallen ax, throwing it at the furious girl from One. The blade smashes into her face, splitting open her nose and cracking the bone. The girl screams one more time before falling to the ground, her blood mixing in with her red hair as she stills. It's over. They killed her. They killed her.

Grace nods solemnly to Adira as the two walk out of the cornucopia, avoiding the blood stained onto the hard ground beneath their feet. Their white dancing slippers are stained with sweat and blood and dust as they start to run, but they pay no attention to their appearance. The bloodbath is starting to finally wind down.

They pass by the bodies of the fallen, bowing their heads slightly in respect as they see Ava's collapsed body on the ground. Alexis is waiting to the side of the circle, the rest of the tributes having already fled into the building or into the hot savanna. "Where now?"

Grace points towards the savanna, highlighting a fleeing figure on the horizon. "The boy from Ten went that way."

Adira nods and begins to jog, the two teens following her quickly. "So be it, then. We'll get him next."

 **Emmett Barkley, 16, District Three Male**

He runs away from the bloodbath, trailing Hallie as she sprints in her emerald dress into the hotel that they've found in front of the cornucopia. They can leave the violence, hide from the blood and gore inside of the hotel. And maybe they'll survive the first ten minutes of the Hunger Games.

Hallie opens the double doors for Emmett as he allows himself to dream of survival, and he steps into the foyer before closing the door and latching it tightly. "If we want to keep them away from us, outside of the hotel, we have to lock the door. We can't let any of them in."

Hallie follows Emmett's gaze towards the raging Adira and nods quickly, running to a huge couch and straining to move it towards the doors. "The more… furniture… we can put… in front of the… doors, the… the more effort they all… put into opening it."

Emmett helps the sweating girl by pushing the couch in front of the door, wiping his brow and struggling to catch his breath. But as he regains his breath, he walks back to the foyer and grabs another couch by the side. "One more. We need them to put all the effort they have while we escape to the upper floors."

Hallie nods and helps him to stack it on top of the other couch, almost collapsing as they heave it on top of the first, but barely managing to stay upright until they position it the right way. The two smile slightly at one another before running past the foyer and look into the dining hall. Emmett gasps and stares at the fine china dishes and the crystal glasses, all gleaming as the sun lights the room. He looks at the dazzling sight, and smells buns and food on the other side of the room. "Should we collect food?"

Hallie nods after deliberating on the matter for a second, racing ahead of him to grab a large napkin and tie it into a small bag. "We only have so much time before they find their way into the hotel, either by another entrance or by forcing the door open, but the bloodbath will last for a bit. We can manage to grab a bit of food… a weapon too. We'll need one soon enough."

Emmett follows her example and takes a napkin as well, gathering buns and a few oranges and apples that are in a large china bowl in the centre of the long table. He looks at the strawberries dotting the sides of the bowl and crams one into his mouth, blissfully tasting the juice-filled berry before walking into the kitchen and gaping. The girl from Twelve is there, poking in the freezers for something that she's looking for. Emmett gasps and she turns around, screaming in shock before reaching for a knife on the counter. Emmett reaches for one as well, and the two eye each other silently before the girl from Twelve runs, holding her knife and a container of food.

Hallie comes in with her napkin of food, and she eyes the missing knives. "Where's the second one?"

Emmett shrugs, pointing at the door. "Maybe the game makers didn't put any in."

Hallie shakes her head as they leave the kitchen, walking up the stairs to wherever they will find themselves next. "It's not that. The game makers are too detail-oriented to do that. Someone's in here with us."

 **Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

Alexis jogs with the girls, watching the savanna truly come into view. When they were in the bloodbath, they couldn't see anything other than the bodies of the other teens and a red mist clouding their vision, bading them to continue attacking, but now it was gone and they were hunting. They were hunting for prey.

She shivers in the bright sun, her mind far away from the savanna. If Roman was still alive, if he hadn't been killed, he'd be watching the games nervously, sobbing into the lap of one of the overwhelmed orphanage directors. He had no place there. He didn't deserve to be crushed by the peacekeeper, to be _robbed_ of his innocence until he was abandoned, the peacekeeper bored with him once more.

She stabs the ground, the fury seeming to flow into the ground as the others look back in alarm. She nods and wrenches her sword out of the ground, breathing deeply and closing her eyes as she starts to walk once more. He deserved to die in that hole of the streets of broken glass. He never deserved to walk the lands of Panem when he had killed Roman. She'd never have kids when she grew up. She'd never give predators the chance to catch them in their grasp when she was looking the other way.

They start to run, the figure of the boy starting to come into view. He isn't looking their way, instead seeming to focus on finding the forcefield in the arena. Alexis grins slightly and continues to run, catching up with the other girls. He'd have no idea they were coming until they were right behind him. And when he did find out, he'd have no chance of escaping.

The cannons start to ring in the air, and the girls wait and count them all. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine cannons shatter the silence of the day, and the girls nod solemnly before continuing to jog. Only fifteen left. Only fourteen more need to die before one of them can go home.

A giraffe came into view, and the girls paused to stare in wonder at the beautiful, orange spotted creature. It stretched its neck to observe the girls before slowly turning back, munching on the leaves at the top of the huge tree it was eating from. A zebra passed by the girls, then another, and they all gasped in delight as a whole herd of them rushed towards whatever river they were surely heading to. Oh, they were beautiful! The savanna was beautiful!

Adira points at the boy from Ten and continues to run, the zebras and giraffes finally forgotten by the girls. They sprint towards him, getting closer every second. He still doesn't look back, walking forward and tapping the ground ahead of him with a stick. He's blissfully unaware that the girls are coming for him.

They reach him soon and he gasps as Grace leaps ahead of him, prodding him with a spear. Alexis can't resist a tiny grin as the boy stumbles away, waving his stick wildly as he tries to get away from the trio. "Stay away! I'm not going out with a fight."

Adira soon tires of the game, leaping towards the boy so as to make him fall. He does, crashing back and hitting his head on a rock. The rock doesn't stop him though, as he continues to breathe heavily and look fearfully at the three girls. Alexis can see the way he clenches his stick and the anger in his eyes, knowing that he was close to stabbing one of them in the leg with it. She needed to end it now.

Her sword came down towards the boy, crashing into the side of the dirt. The boy closed his eyes and clenched his mouth before opening them slowly, realizing that he wasn't dead. Alexis laughed and reached a hand out to him, helping the nervous farmboy back up to his feet. "We're allying with you, idiot. Now, get off of your rear and grab this knife. We've got work to do."

 **And the bloodbath is finished! Wasn't it wonderful? Wasn't it wild? Wasn't it sad? Wasn't it scary? Well, here's a list of the dead before the obituaries, just to inform you of our very tragic deaths. RIP to those dead, and I'm sorry if your tribute was killed. Those unnamed will remain thus, but named characters here will get their names as well as position.**

 **24th: District Eight Male, fell off of pedestal.**

 **23rd: Benny Rhines, District One Male, killed by Ava Barkley.**

 **22nd: District Five Female, killed by Alexis Telle.**

 **21st: District Four Male, killed by Adira Hemlock.**

 **20th: Ava Barkley, District Ten Female, killed by Davina Sterling.**

 **19th: District Six Female, killed by Adira Hemlock.**

 **18th: District Eleven Female, killed by District Five Male.**

 **17th: District Nine Male, killed by Leif Freyson.**

 **16th: Davina Sterling, District One Female, killed by Adira Hemlock and Grace Oceanus.**

 **Ava - Iridescenteverdeen, thanks so much for this great character. Ava's spunk and good nature was great in this story, but in the end, she just lost out due to her carelessness in the bloodbath. I really enjoyed her as a character, and she definitely helped to spur on some plots, such as interactions with Ashira, Joel, and the Triple (now quadruple) alliance. I hope you enjoyed her in the story, and best of luck to Emmett!**

 **Davina - Jailynne, Davina could have potentially won it all if she didn't kill Ava. she was a great character who knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it, an early version of a career without being too career-ish. However, the way she was a bit cold to others alienated her from forming alliances, but her kind nature combined with her fierce spirit was so nice to write. I hope you enjoyed her journey, and best wishes for reading the rest of this little story!**

 **And we're done the bloodbath. Now we're into the games, meaning that we get to see more of the characters, as well as SPONSORING! HOORAY! Get ready to sponsor guys, and here are the points now.**

 **Sponsor points.**

RoadieMcRoadface: 45 Points

Iridescenteverdeen: 20 Points

Goldie031: 55 Points

LongingForRomeo: 35 Points

Jailynne: 10 Points

 **Sponsor System**

Small food item (Apples, crackers, etc.): 40 Points

Large food item (Anything!): 60 Points

Medicine (Poison cure, fever medicine, aspirin, etc.): 55 Points

First Aid (Bandages, healing cream, etc.): 70 Points

Small Weapons (Knives, poison, etc.): 70 Points

Large Weapons (Sword, spear, etc.): 100 Points

 **If you want to sponsor your tribute or another something but don't have the points for it, you can go back and review chapters you haven't ;) As well as that, I'll allow my stories 'Cruel World' and 'Mockingjay' to count for five sponsor points for one review per chapter. If you do other stories, try to do more than a few words and express your true opinion, and you'll be just fine! And if you don't want to do that, no worries and just keep reviewing for those points! If you do have the points for something that you want to give your tribute, however, pm me the item you want to send and I'll give it to them in a future chapter :) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	15. Arena Day I: Mistrust

**Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

She flies up the stairs of the strange hotel, away from the boy from Three and onto the next floor. She doesn't know where he is after their encounter in the luxurious hotel kitchen, but she doesn't want to go back down and find out. She needs to keep moving. It's her only chance in the arena. Otherwise, she might be the next cannon to ring out in the dead silence of the arena.

Seriously, the silence in the hotel was starting to creep her out. Twelve was always noisy, a rhythmic, subdued harmony of families, wildlife, and the occasional mockingjay that decided to perch on the roof of a house and sing out its call. Mockingjays still scared her father a bit. He still hadn't been able to get over a scare from jabberjays in the war, where he had thought that their shrieking calls were hungry animals, waiting to get into the limits of Twelve. Cougars still roamed through the woods in the out-of-districts, hunting, always hunting for another meal. She could remember a story in the paper about a man in Twelve having been caught by one as he ventured into the woods, beyond the boundaries of Twelve, to search for caches of old rebel weapons from the Dark Days to help hidden rebel bases in Twelve. Peacekeepers had searched the village for weeks after his corpse was found, only a quarter-mile from the railroad. They had broken a pretty china doll that she had gotten for her birthday as they searched through her house. But Ashira had said nothing, only sweeping up the pieces and burying them in the backyard. She didn't want to get on the bad side of the peacekeepers. No one wanted to get on the bad side of the peacekeepers in Twelve.

She keeps running up the stairs, passing the second, third, and fourth floors of the never-ending hotel. Was this what every house in the Capitol was like? Did every abode spiral up to the stairs in that city of glass?

She stops on the fifth floor, looking up the stairs before ducking through the door in the stairwell and into a long, well-lit hall. There was no point in heading up to the roof. On second thought, maybe she should head down to the fourth floor. Anyone searching for a place to hide might choose the fifth floor, the furthest away from any other tribute, and she couldn't risk her discovery in this paradise. Yes, it was better to head down to the fourth.

She walks down the stairs quickly, opening the door to the fourth floor and closing it quietly as she looked down the hallway. It was a calming green that adorned the walls of this floor, one that Ashira smiles at as she slips off her crystal high heels and puts them down on the floor, right behind a small desk to the side of the door. They had killed her feet as she ran up the stairs, but she hadn't wanted to risk the chance of discovery. Now that she was safe in a floor, she was at liberty to get more comfortable.

She opened the fifth door down the right side of the hallway, slipping in and looking in awe at the luxurious room. A fluffy, pillow-adorned bed was seated in the middle of the room, with a floor-to-wall window behind the bed. Ashira squints through the glass and spots a few dots in the distance, scurrying to who-knows-where in the arena. Why they didn't come into the hotel, she had no idea. Maybe they felt safer outdoors. But you never did know what the game makers could have made as mutts…

She opens the bathroom to find a huge shower, complete with frosted glass. Ashira gives a smile of thanks to the wall, likely where the enterprising game makers had set up a camera, before stepping into the shower and tossing her dress gratefully out of the door, turning on the tap and basking in the warm water. It was only after she stepped out and grabbed a towel to wrap around her relaxed body when she realizes that they could have hidden cameras in the shower. She gulps and clutches the towel nervously around her, quickly opening a closet and finding a comfortable pair of jeans and a blouse to put on. She hides in the closet to do so before stepping back out, looking around her uneasily at the walls. She didn't need the whole of the Capitol ogling her body as she changed from her dress, no matter how popular she might become because of it. Instead, she locks the door and sinks onto the bed, closing the curtains and glancing wistfully at her beautiful dress in the corner of the room before shutting her eyes and letting herself surrender to sleep. It may be morning, but the past few nights hadn't been the most relaxing for any tribute in the Capitol.

It is a beeping from the halls that rouses Ashira from her slumber, blinking suspiciously around her before grabbing the forgotten steak knife and opening the door quietly. She peeks outside to see a… silver canister sitting on a rolling cart, bearing the number twelve on its side. What _is_ it?

She first touches it with her steak knife before opening it warily, hoping against hope that it isn't a bomb. Had she not been interesting enough for the game makers? Did she do something wrong today?

But it's not an explosive that greets her worried eyes, it's a platter of still warm food and lemonade on a silver tray, with a small note tucked beside a steaming bowl of stew. She opens it quickly and reads the words, curious to see what the game makers have in store for her.

 _Enjoy this gift, Ashira. Sponsors have been granted a… different status this year. Stay safe; Pollux._

She snorts at the affectionate tone from the note, folding it neatly and tucking it into her pocket before looking at the platter of food. It was likely the escort who had written it for him. No way in Panem had grumpy old Pollux managed to be that sympathetic to a tribute.

She picked up the platter of food, smiling a grateful smile to the ceiling. She didn't know why she had gotten the food, but it had something to do with the fact that there were… _sponsors_ this year. And if she wanted anything else, she likely had to enjoy this for them. No room for mistakes in the Games.

She opens a different door this time, wanting to see if the rooms were any different than others. But as she starts to eat her feast, all that she can see is an identical room to the other one, the only difference being the colour of a few of the pillows. That answered one question.

She only eats half of the stew and drinks a bit of the lemonade before stopping, knowing that too much would have her stomach spew its contents over the floor later in the games if she wasn't careful. She had watched over-eager tributes feast on kills and regret it hours later. But the only difference was that the Games were usually half-over by that time. Why hasn't there been another cannon yet?

She hides the platter in a corner before stepping out of the room and walking back to the stairwell, looking around her warily. There should have been another death by now. The Games were always quick. _Always._

But she doesn't think about that as she opens the door. Instead, she screams at the object in the stairwell and pushes it, screaming wildly and flinging herself down the stairs. Not a tribute! Not a tribute! Not a tribute!

"Ashira! Ashira, stop! Stop!" Her vision clears as she looks at a panicked Corey, a bruise on the side of his head already starting to darken. "It's me! I'm not trying to kill you!"

She steps away slowly, still wary of her district partner. You never knew what even your own partner could be capable of the Games.

Corey smiles with relief, stretching his hand out to Ashira. "If you're done trying to kill me, it's nice to see you again. I haven't seen a soul since I got into the hotel. Are they all still out in the savannah?"

"I think so," she whispers, averting her eyes from the cheerful boy. Why doesn't he realize that it's the Hunger Games? Why is he still talking to her instead of running? Why isn't he worried?

"Well, an alliance could thrive easily up here. If no one's looking, a barricade against a door would close off an entire floor from the rest of the arena. We'd be safe." Corey smiles at Ashira, grabbing her hand and shaking it firmly. "Allies?"

Allies? She hadn't even planned on talking to another tribute in the games. Why did she have to ally with him? Even if they had known each other in the Capitol, that didn't mean they could work together in the arena, did it? Who knew what Corey was capable of?

But what would he do if she declined?

"Allies." She looks away from Corey and walks back up the stairs, shivering in her blouse. This wasn't what she had in mind. She'd have to be careful, and see if she couldn't find a way to sneak away from the teen later, if not kill him. She couldn't trust anyone here. No one.

Corey runs up to her and opens the door, grinning widely and pointing to the desk. "If we shove that against the door along with a few other things, I pity the fool who tries to break in. We'll be safe, Ashira! By the way, where did you change? This tux is chafing me everywhere."

Ashira points at the rooms, looking at the green doors, the only difference being the brass numbers hanging on each door. "Changes of clothes are in the closets around here." She doesn't mention the platter of food she has hidden in Room 407. Corey didn't need to know everything.

Corey smiles, ducking into the room and poking his head out. "Thanks! I'll meet you out here with a change of clothes, ready to make our barricade. Have fun!"

She looks away once the door closes, quietly opening the door to Room 407 and grabbing her knife. She hides it in her blouse, wrapping it in a cloth from the room to ensure that she didn't cut herself later on. She didn't know what Corey had planned once more tributes started to die, but she had to be ready. She wouldn't let herself trust her only ally.

She wouldn't let herself trust anyone.

 **Who is this? What is this? A chapter? From JAJ? After, like, a month? Impossible!**

 **Well, I guess i'm sorry for abandoning y'all after forever, but my first job called. It's been really taxing, and the fact that I caught writer's block and two colds (including one right now) didn't speed anything up. But now we're properly into the games, and ready for anything! Hope you guys missed me a ton, and get ready for lots and lots of trauma, death, and teenage angst!**

 **I sent Ashira's sponsor gift to start it all up, but you guys can definitely sponsor tributes now! Go wild and pm me with your choices! Have fun and stock your tributes up! After all, it's the Hunger Games!**

 **Sponsor points.**

RoadieMcRoadface: 50 Points

Iridescenteverdeen: 20 Points

Goldie031: 80 Points

LongingForRomeo: 40 Points

Jailynne: 10 Points

 **Sponsor System**

Small food item (Apples, crackers, etc.): 40 Points

Large food item (Anything!): 60 Points

Medicine (Poison cure, fever medicine, aspirin, etc.): 55 Points

First Aid (Bandages, healing cream, etc.): 70 Points

Small Weapons (Knives, poison, etc.): 70 Points

Large Weapons (Sword, spear, etc.): 100 Points

 **Hopefully, I can get another chapter out soon then! Expect it at least in September ;) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	16. Arena Day I: Tension

**Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

Empty.

That's how full her stomach is right now, and the others can wait for her to wolf down an energy bar before they continue to hunt; like the lion pride that Joel glimpsed in the distance an hour ago. They had watched the lions quietly search for prey, their golden paws treading silently on the hard-baked earth. Her allies were like the lions, working together for their next prey. But the lions can trust one another, believe in the fact that they're all hunting for the pride and not themselves. Her allies were out for themselves.

And if she turned her back on them too long, she'd be the next cannon to ring out into the dry, arid savanna.

She rips the wrapper off and chews on the chocolate-flavoured bar, one of several snacks that she had found in one of the more choice backpacks in the cornucopia. A light-orange pack, it also had housed a waterproof poncho and what seemed to be some type of explosive. She wasn't sure what to do with that when she had first opened the backpack, so she had quietly buried it under a pile of bows and arrows before catching up with the rest of the group to hunt. They had gotten backpacks as well, Grace choosing a blue one with a knife and silver foil that seemed to be for sleeping, and Alexis with a grey pack that she had stuffed weapons and water into. They'd need water later; several hours hunting and the group still hadn't found any trace of even a stream, let alone a lake to fill their bottles in.

She quickly grabbed her backpack from the ground and kept moving, Joel looking at her until she caught up. He shivered and ran ahead as she settled into a loping pace, easily matching step for step with the rest of the group. Grace looks over her shoulder to see Adira and smiles confidently as she turns back and keeps running.

Suddenly Alexis, leading the front, stops, halting the group in its tracks. "I see a tribute!"

Adira squints into the horizon and, sure enough, there's a tribute heading into the setting sun. They can't be more than a mile in front of the group, surely a short enough distance for them to catch up if the tribute doesn't look back. They need that element of surprise.

Adira nods to the group and breaks into a quick jog, the others following quickly in her tracks. Joel is right behind her, holding one of the knives that she had given him after they had found him. He's breathing heavily, a sure sign of weariness from their long jog. But he _is_ only fifteen to her seventeen, and he's kept up with them without a complaint thus far. He's earned his spot in the group. For now.

Grace moves ahead of Adira as they get closer, putting a slender, tanned finger to her lips as she runs with a lanky spear. They've gotten closer to the tribute right now, close enough for Adira to see that it's Leif they're hunting. He's slowed down to a walk right now, and still hasn't looked behind him to see the silent pack sprinting towards him. He's oblivious.

It's Grace who strikes first, throwing her spear into the air and unleashing a war cry - though Adira isn't sure if it's to strike fear into Leif or to boost her own confidence - that startles Leif. He leaps up and screams as the spear lands to his right, leading him to start sprinting away from the group. But Alexis races after him, her sword flying through the air as she slices at Leif's wiry frame. He keeps dodging the silver blade but trips, face planting into the dust. And then they surround him, Adira holding her ax directly in his face. "Any last words?"

Leif looks up at Adira with scared eyes, his small body trembling like a leaf. Adira stops herself from laughing at the irony, composing her face as the boy starts to speak. "I - I love you, Ma. And Father, I'm sorry that I got mad at you the last time I saw you. I guess - I guess I was wrong all this time."

Tears start to splash into the ground from his cheeks, and Adira turns to Joel. "You get this one, got it?"

Joel recoils, looking at Adira with confusion. "You want _me_ to kill him? Me?"

"Pretend it's a chicken, farmboy," Grace quips, and the girls laugh as Joel gulps nervously. He takes one look at the panicked Leif before slowly reaching for his knife, sweat starting to form on his brow.

"O-okay," he replies, and Joel whispers something that Adira can't make out into Leif's ear before closing his eyes. Leif looks at him gratefully, then shuts his own as Joel quickly slits his neck. Leif spasms before falling onto the ground, his eyes peacefully remaining shut as the cannon finally booms.

Adira smiles, patting Joel on the back and helping him to his feet. "You did good."

Joel dry-heaves onto the ground, saliva falling onto the ground as he fights to regain control. He finally stands back up, wiping his face and sighing. He's as white as snow. "I'm alright."

Adira nods as Alexis throws the pale teen a water bottle, Joel gratefully gulping half of it down before handing it back to Alexis. "Thanks."

Adira taps her foot impatiently as Joel wipes his knife on the ground, fighting the urge to yell at him. "You guys ready to keep moving? There's got to be _some_ water around here."

Alexis and Grace nod slowly, Grace looking a little green herself as she starts to run. But they all quickly turn back to their normal pallor as they continue to run, beads of sweat falling off of their cheeks and onto the ground. Thank Panem that there had been changes of clothes in the Cornucopia, Adira would have _died_ if she had to run in that stupid dress around the arena. Alexis had ripped a strip off of hers and tied it to her wrist as a band, whilst Grace had laughed at her cerulean marvel as she had pulled on a much more comfortable training outfit. It was Joel who was still outfitted in the tuxedo that he had worn for the bloodbath, but he had stripped off the jacket and tied it around his waist as he ran with the girls. He didn't seem to be feeling the heat as much as the rest of the group, consuming only around half of the water that Alexis drank. Maybe it was all of that sun in Ten that had him acclimatized to the arena.

Adira bumps bump into Grace as she halts to a stop, pointing to the horizon. "Guys, there's water over there! Water!"

Adira looks, and sure enough, there's a glistening river hidden in the savanna. They all run as quick as they can, their grievances about the arena quenched by the thought of running water to bathe in. The sun is so _hot_!

It's Joel who dives into the river first, sighing in relief as the waters engulf his body. He walks out with satisfaction, his dark hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes sticking to him as he lets the sun dry him off. "Anyone else up for a dip?"

"Not with _those_ things hogging the water," Grace replies wryly, and Joel jumps in fright as the group notices a pair of lazy crocodiles drifting through the river. Right on cue, one of them leaps into the air and snaps its jaws, and the allies all scream in horror and back away from the foul reptiles.

"So much for swimming,' pants Alexis as they run, Adira a healthy distance ahead of the rest of the group. No one dares to reply, they all just keep running until Adira deems that they're far enough from the crocodiles to sit down. They all collapse when Adira finally stops, Grace rubbing her forehead and pushing away her blonde hair.

"No way can you make me go back to those things," gasps Joel, and they all nod in sympathy. But the girls look at the refreshed Joel enviously, wishing that they had been the ones to jump in the river before they saw the crocodiles. But the threat of death was great enough to keep them away from the water, and they all sit for a bit before Grace finally gets up to her feet. "We should probably head back to the cornucopia. The sky is starting to darken."

The rest nod as they look up at the sky, watching the stars start to show up above their heads before they all start to move. They opt for a slow jog this time around, the day of hunting having worn the group out. Adira watches the lights on the hotel dance, the first, second, and fifth floor all sporting red lights, while the third and fourth flash shades of green as the arena turns to dusk. It's almost night.

She looks back at her allies, watching the three follow her slowly. Grace seems none-the-worse from the kill, only a tired gaze on her face as she keeps moving. Alexis still seems nervous about the wildlife in the arena, looking behind her back every-so-often and muttering something about peacekeepers and some brother she had. It was Joel who remained silent, a stunned look on his face. He didn't want to kill that kid. But if he hadn't, Adira would have killed him alongside her district partner. She couldn't risk an unreliable member of the pack. It would only lead to death, for her or for him. And it won't be her, she can guarantee that.

Alexis stumbles and the group stops, waiting for her to pull up the heel of her shoe and drink a bit. "Want any water?"

Adira catches the bottle thrown to her and gulps it down, greedily sucking up every last drop in the container before tossing it back to Alexis. Grace gives back hers as well after she finishes, but Joel refuses the one Alexis offers him. "I'm not thirsty right now."

Alexis shrugs, putting the water back in her pack. "Your choice."

They keep moving, the arena having faded to a dark plain of shadows. Adira pays no attention to the screeches in the distances, neither the fire that she can see being lit up behind them. They'll hunt tomorrow. But for now, they had to get back. They needed to sleep.

Alexis yawns, pushing her hair away from her face. "This is taking forever. Are we ever going to make it back?"

Soon, Adira almost says as she turns around, but she's interrupted by a _massive_ explosion that lights up the night. A wave of heat follows the sound, blasting Adira's face and making her shut her eyes.

When they finally look up, a dulled fire can be seen close to them, the sound of a cannon ringing through the air as the lights of the hotel continue to dance in front of them. Adira turns to Alexis, her face twisting into a wry smile. "That answers your question."

They sprint to see what made that explosion, Grace muttering worriedly to herself and Joel breathing heavily. And as the group get closer, Adira can see the golden metal of the cornucopia lit up by the flames.

Something's blown up the supplies.

 **Another chapter! And two deaths! Were you surprised by this turn of events? I enjoyed writing it a lot, and the pack now finds themselves in a situation that may recall something in the far future… *cough cough the 74th games cough cough***

 **Well, I hope you guys liked it! I'm so glad I was able to churn this chapter out quickly, and maybe you guys will send in sponsor gifts in sometime soon! (Please send them in I want to commence transactions)**

 **15th: Leif Freyson, District Seven Male, killed by Joel Fletcher.**

 **14th: District Eleven Male, killed by Sidney Fawkes.**

 **And how did the second death occur? I guess you'll just have to wait for… the next chapter ;) XD**

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 **Hope you guys are enjoying, and especially this chapter! I like what I wrote XDD Until next time (maybe tomorrow if I'm very nice ;D) TheAmazingJAJ**


	17. Arena Night I: Eruption

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

He gasps as the boy from Eleven explodes with the rest of the supplies, causing a cannon to ring out among the dark night and light to drown him as the wave of fire hits. He's knocked off of his feet, flying through the air until he crashes into the dry soil of the arena.

His head rings with the sound of the explosives that he had detonated by accident only seconds before as he struggles to get back up, blinking his eyes slowly and coughing out the dust that he had swallowed in his fall. As he stands, a sharp pain in his left leg causes him to stumble once more, favouring his right leg as he regains his footing. It better not be broken. He can't handle a broken limb in the arena, even with explosives. He'd die, hands down.

And speaking of death, he can hear the panicked alliance that had taken over the cornucopia before leaving running back to it, the girl from Seven yelling at the rest to check for any tributes.

To check for tributes!

He hobbles to the cornucopia, the burning supplies creating a blast of hot air that seems to broil his skin. But he soon is protecting by the golden metal of the cornucopia, and he grimly clenches a handhold to pull himself up. On top of the cornucopia is the only place they won't check. Mother and Father have always reminded him that people never seem to look up high when they search for people. Looking up is the least natural movement for a head, and unless one of them hears him, they won't spot him on top of there.

He continues to move up the metal, the warmth of the fires making him wince as he pulls himself up. But he soon tumbles onto the top of the cornucopia, and instantly holds his breath as he hears the metallic clatter from his arrival on the roof. But seconds later, there's no replying sound from the alliance, and he sighs silently in relief. He's safe. Unless one of the girls has the idea to look on the roof. Then he's screwed.

He can hear the girls searching around the cornucopia, their hunt accentuated with cries of disappointment as they presumably find ruined supplies. There's a male down there as well, his voice mingling in with the rest of the girls. Have they let someone else into their alliance?

The alliance keeps searching, a cry of disgust from the male as he finds the remains of the District Eleven Male. The rest soon find the boy as well, and a heavy sigh from the girl from Two drifts up to Sidney. What's their problem? It's the Hunger Games. They have to bury their emotions to survive. There's only room for apathy in yourself when you fight others. Emotions cloud actions, and therefore the mind. It's best to cut them out altogether.

But he remembers the mangled corpse of the tribute, and he fights a rising taste of bile from his throat. He's not going to puke if he can help it.

The group soon seem to give up the hunt after the discovery of the corpse, likely accepting that the boy from Eleven had set the explosions. But Sidney can still hear little cries of disgust from the girl from Seven, disappointing that they've lost most of the supplies. The alliance will likely fold soon; any group that took command of the cornucopia in the last few games - only two others, and both in the same games to begin with - broke up after they started to lose supplies. With little of the supplies that had kept the alliance together to begin with, they'd likely be breaking up soon, optimally with a few deaths. And then the loners in the Games would have a chance…

But he can't think of the future when he has to focus on the present. What Sidney needs to do is get away from the alliance altogether, away from any chance of death. The supplies that he had been scavenging through when he had set off the explosives had likely been blown to smithereens, as he had idiotically ran from the beeping with his hands empty, and what little of what was little would be certainly taken by the group. He has to leave, and he can't do that until they decide to leave or sleep.

Leaving would be his best chance of escape, as sleep would bring up the potential to wake them up in his escape. Even if only one remained, he could manage to fight them off with the knife he had grabbed from the cornucopia. He'd win; there was no way even the most seasoned of the alliance could fend off a knife in the dark. The arena made for almost no light to be seen other than those infernal blinking lights on the hotel, leaving him nearly invisible. He just had to wait.

He's soon rewarded for his patience as the girls of the group start to walk away, leaving behind the boy to wait by the cornucopia as they presumably searched for a place to sleep. He bites back a peal of laughter as he remembers that lions usually let the females hunt, leaving the lone males to sleep or guard the camp. The alliance - no, the _pride_ \- were too predictable for their own good.

He slips off of the cornucopia, taking care not to bang the silver blade in his hand against the metal. He doesn't need to fight the male. But he doesn't, and he quickly hobbles away and to the hotel. Maybe he'll find refuge in the lone building in the arena. Who knows, maybe there'll even be a map of the arena in there!

He quickly gets to the door with no sign of pursuit from the boy, and he starts to turn the knob to find that it's jammed. Damn.

He keeps jiggling it, hoping that it's just a sticky lock, but nothing moves. He nods resignedly, grabbing a thin metal strip from his navy blue suit and attacking the lock. His years of lockpicking sessions pay off as the lock clicks, letting him open the door and step into the hotel. He quickly locks the door behind him - he doesn't want any of the pride following him into this oasis - and looks around to see a lit-up foyer. The game makers haven't held back any expenses in the decoration of the room, with diamond chandeliers and golden door-knobs adorning the room.

But he can't stop to gawk at the lights, he has to keep moving. He needs food and water, first and foremost, and a reliable exit out of the hotel. He doesn't need to be trapped by any attacks from tributes who had made their way into the hotel.

He heads in the direction of what seems to be a room made of metal, soon proving to be a kitchen. He grabs a bowl and fills it quickly with still-steaming grilled chicken set out on the counters before grabbing water bottles stored inside of containers. He then eats some of his findings, ravenously ripping off the meat from the bone and chugging down the water before he satisfies his thirst. And when he does, he keeps gathering food, only stopping to grab one of the knives on the table. From what he can tell, three others have been taken by tributes. That's more than enough proof that he's not alone in here.

Suddenly feeling nervous, Sidney spots the door out of the kitchen and walks through it, back out into the cool air of the arena and into the neck-length grass that covers this side of the hotel. He makes his way through part of the field before lying down, closing his eyes and waiting for sleep to come. He'll be safe here. The pride won't find him in this field.

But the Capitol anthem jerks him awake, quickly running through the militaristic symphony before starting to show the faces in the sky. It's the District One Male who first shows up, causing Sidney to nod. He expected the young boy to go soon. He must have died in the bloodbath; there was no way he had been that cannon close to the end of the day. He wasn't strong enough to make it out alive.

The District One Female is next, and Sidney gasps in surprise. She was a strong one, a girl who had seemed to carry a maturity about her that few others had held. It was a surprise she had died. Maybe she had been the cannon towards the end of the day. She had seemed to antagonize the pride simply through not acknowledging them, and her score would have made her a threat to take care of.

The District Four Male shows up next, grinning weakly from his portrait. Sidney nods again, he remembers the boy being sick during training. He must have been ill before the reapings, and it had carried through to the games. It was rather a shame, he seemed like he could have been rather strong if he hadn't been burdened by his illness. But he had died, and all the better for Sidney. There were only twelve tributes left to die before he could go home. Only twelve.

The Five Female lights up the sky right after the sick kid, showing a simper as she gazes down onto Sidney. He hadn't seen her all of the training, neither her partner. She was just a blank face in the sky, someone who he'd never know again.

The next few faces come through in rapid succession - the Six Female, the Seven Male, the Eight Male - all quickly show themselves to Sidney for the last time before they vanish into the night. He hadn't known them, and they hadn't known him. They were just kids who had died in the bloodbath.

And what difference did it make if they had died or not? It was numbers, not humans that he was truly fighting against. It was so much easier to think of the remaining twelve as targets. It kept some… anonymity to the fact that he was trying to kill them. Mother and Father had taught him that. They had anticipated that the technique would be used for assassinations, not the Hunger Games, but he'd gladly use it in the arena. He needed his sanity.

The Nine Male and the Ten Female show up next, causing Sidney to gasp in surprise. He didn't expect the girl to die, not with her score. She had been one of his top targets, and now she was just… _gone_. What happened to her?

But he doesn't reflect on the matter as the Eleven Male and Female show up in the sky, gazing down on Sidney. He squirms slightly when he sees the Eleven Male; he hadn't seen him hiding in the cornucopia until he had heard his cannon boom. It had been a nasty surprise, but it was beneficial to Sidney. His death had raised Sidney's odds from one in thirteen to one in twelve.

The anthem plays once more before finishing, and the arena turns silent once more. Eleven down. Twelve to go.

He smiles as he realizes that his parents must be watching the games together; not even missions granted anyone the privilege of skipping the mandatory viewing of the Games. Funny that his almost-death sentence was bringing them closer together, even if they didn't want to be. If he died, would they apply for a divorce from the Capitol, or would they stay together? He suspected that the first option would be the case; from his eavesdropping on them, they despised each other.

But at least they kept the facade of love up for him, even if he knew better.

He smiles as he drifts off to sleep for the benefit of the cameras, then yawns widely. The day's been long. He's got to go to sleep, even if sleep brought death.

And if he was given a chance, he'd be able to fight off death any day.

 **Another update! Am I starting to make up for my absence? XD**

 **Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I sure did, and now we're onto Day Two! That means we'll be seeing the pride once more, as anyone who paid enough attention might have realized that the povs go loner-pride-loner-pride and so forth. Get excited for that big chapter, as it may lead to the death of another main character…**

 **I'm hoping that I can continue my streak and I've already churned out 1k of the next chapter, but, realistically, we're probably getting the next chapter sometime in the next week. If you want to sponsor and have the points, DO SO! I'm perfectly willing to do it ;))))**

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	18. Arena Day II: Loss

**Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

She looks up at the sky, yawning slightly as she watches the sun beam down on the plains. The rest of the alliance is seated on the ground next to her, idly talking or occupying themselves as they wait for some sort of signal to spur them into action. They haven't done much since the supplies were blown up, just sit around and wait. Always wait.

Adira had blown up after the supplies had been blown up, throwing her ax repeatedly into the soft metal of the cornucopia. But Alexis and Joel had found supplies hidden among the chaos of the remains, scavenging several weapons and food to supply them for the next few days. And with her backpack of water, they'd be able to survive for the next few days. Hopefully, that was all they'd need to end the Games. The Hunger Games had never lasted more than three days, and on Day Two, still thirteen tributes were left. It looked like they were all in for the long haul.

The night had been long. Alexis had spent half of it searching for a good place to sleep, finally finding one big enough for the four of them in a small gully close to the cornucopia. And then they had all fell asleep on the hard ground, sleepily curling up to one another before they realized what they were doing and jerking away. It had been a wretched night, combined with sleepless moments and throbbing pains in her back. She's still convinced that a rock got embedded into the back of her neck, even if her search for said rock only found sore skin. It aches worse than anything she's ever felt. If the sponsors have any kindness, they'd send her a sleeping bag. After all, they sent Adira a parachute. Who's to say they won't do the same for Alexis?

Adira feels the light fabric of the parachute that she had received, twirling the silver box around her head. It had only been a few hours since the parachute had drifted down from the bright, blue sky, - like a bird, said Grace. Like hope, said Joel. - bringing food and a crystal vial of what was supposed to be medicine for fevers or colds. Adira had promptly stored it in her backpack, promising the others that it would go to good use if any of them got sick. They all knew what she really meant - that it was for Adira, and Adira's use alone. If they wanted anything, they'd have to wait for a parachute or find some in the mess that was the cornucopia. Even as allies, Adira wasn't wasting what little she had on any of them.

Joel stands up and stretches, watching the endless plains with a bored gaze. "Have you guys even seen anything?"

"Nope," Alexis answers, and the other girls say the same. Joel nods with what she fancies to be a small smile hovering on the edge of his face and grabs his knife.

"I'm going to go patrol around here and see if there's any way we can get into the hotel. Anyone want to come with me?"

Alexis nods and stands up, and Adira and Grace stand up as well. Adira steps in front of the alliance, her hair flowing in the small breeze. "We'll look to the east while you guys do that."

The two nod and walk to the hotel, Alexis drawing her sword and holding it at her side as she walks alongside Joel. He's holding his knife at his side as well, a worried line crossing his face. She smiles and turns to him, taking care to not trip on the melted containers scattered around them. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Joel looks out into the distance, not focusing on the hotel. "It's my fifteenth birthday in two days. Hoping to make it there, y'know?"

Alexis nods, patting him on the back and continuing to walk. "So we'll have to celebrate. What kind of cake would you like from me?"

Joel cracks up, pointing up at the sky as he continues to walk. "That's the only place we'll manage to get carrot cake, Alexis. I don't think there's going to be a carrot cake manifesting in the arena right in front of us, let alone a carrot. I don't think you can grow anything other than weeds in this soil. It's almost rock, it's so bad!"

She snickers, trying the first door. "Guess it's locked, farmboy."

Joel jiggles it as well, moving the handle back and forth before giving up entirely. "Hopefully one of the others will be open. I don't think that Adira will be able to handle not killing another tribute today."

Alexis cracks up as they walk to the next door, Joel trying to open it before giving up. "Maybe the next one will work this time. You know, Adira's just going to break down the door eventually."

"But if there's a security system?" Joel asks, walking quickly around the corner of the building and towards the next door. "It could kill her - or one of us. I'd rather just walk in an open door. There's bound to be one around here sometime. Anyone in there will end up getting cabin fever soon enough."

Alexis nods, trying the next door halfheartedly. That's why it's such a surprise when it clicks open.

The two stare at each other, not daring to speak in case it closes again. Joel quickly enters the building with Alexis, and they shout for joy as the door closes. They've made it into the hotel.

"You think that we should go back and tell Adira?" asks Joel, looking nervously up the stairs. "I don't think she'd be pleased to find out that we're just wandering around the hotel aimlessly."

"Have a little spirit, Joel!" snaps Alexis. "Look, we've made it this far. We might as well look around the second floor. Don't you want to come back proudly with a kill or something?"

"I want to come back with my life."

The two are silent as they make their way up the stairs.

Alexis is the one to open the door, looking through the hallway and watching the curtains at the windows move around. "It's great in here! Why didn't we go in here in the first place?"

"I don't like it," Joel says nervously. "There's someone here. I know there is."

"Don't be an idiot." She moves towards the first door, opening it and looking inside. "Looks nice in here. If we find the others, we could sleep here for the night."

"And get killed because of it," mutters Joel.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

A cannon suddenly booms outside, and the two jump in the air. It rings throughout the arena, bringing a chilling feeling into the hotel. Someone's dead. Eleven to go.

Alexis is the first to react, grabbing her sword instinctively and looking down the hallway to the wide window at the end of it. "Should we look and see if we can spot the body?"

Joel shrugs, walking down with Alexis towards the window. He flings open the curtain and - wham!

A teenage boy jumps out from the curtain and attacks Joel, stabbing him with a tiny needle in the neck and punching him in the face. Alexis roars and charges towards the boy, flinging her sword and catching him in the leg. He screams, jumping away from her and running down the hall. She makes a feeble attempt at chasing after him before he disappears into the stairwell, then turns back to Joel. He's gasping on the floor, reaching for his knife and holding his neck. "I-I can't breathe!"

She hauls him up and feels the spot where he was stabbed, looking at the blood pooling out from the stab wound. It's a thin trickle, slowly dripping down his neck, onto her fingers, and down Joel's shirt. "Are you okay? Are you going to be okay? Joel! Joel!"

Joel gasps for breath, looking up at the ceiling. "I can't see. I think - I think it's - it's poisoned."

"No!" she screams, feeling around her body for something, _anything_ she can use to help him. She finds a canteen of water in her backpack and pours it on the wound, clenching two of her fingers next to it. "You're going to be alright, farmboy. Stay with me. Stay with me."

Joel laughs hoarsely before letting out a dry sob, his chest heaving for air. "I'm not going to make it. I love you, Mom. I miss you, Dad. I'm sorry I didn't make it to - to fifteen."

She keeps pressing the wound even after Joel goes limp, periodically pouring water on it and feeling for his pulse. It's only when his cannon booms she gives up, slashing the wall in anger and pummeling it with her bloodied fists.

She walks down the stairs with tears in her eyes, trying to wipe them away as she makes her way back down the stairwell. Joel's gone. He's gone, just like Roman. He never had a chance. Poor Roman. She misses him. She misses him so damn much and the _Capitol took him away from her, just like her parents and everything she touches!_

She punches the wall again, roaring in fury as she smashes one of the chandeliers. It takes the feeling of blood dripping down her cheek from the shattered crystal to snap her out of her fury, and she calms down.

But as she walks out of the door, she sees a parachute floating down towards her.

She opens it quickly and cries when she sees the beautiful carrot cake, frosted up and ready to be sliced for Joel. But it was addressed to Two, not Ten.

She opens the note next to the cake quickly, scanning the few lines.

 _Stay strong. You can get over this. Let it strengthen you, even if you feel like death will only push you down. I know what you can do, Alexis._

 _Clay._

She lets out a sob before shaking her head firmly, getting back up to her feet and looking at the cornucopia. She'll take this back to the others and tell them about his death, and they can regroup together. They can overcome this. They can. After all, there are only eleven tributes left.

She soon spots Adira running toward her, the ax that she perpetually carries splattered with blood. Her outfit is looking worse for wear as well, with several slashes and what seems to be a stab wound dotting it. Adira gasps as she gets back to Alexis, pointing back at the plains. "Grace betrayed me. She's gone now."

Alexis widens her eyes, surprised that the wisecracking Grace had betrayed them. But she accepts Adira's explanation and points towards the hotel. "Some kid killed Joel. I guess it's only us left."

Adira narrows her eyes, looking up at the hotel. "Which floor was it?"

Alexis stutters, looking back up at the hotel. "Why does i-it mat-matter? It's just a death?"

"Which floor was it, _Alexis_?"

"Second floor," she replies, looking up at the hotel. The third and fourth floors are still flashing green, while the second, fifth and first still sport their red colours.

Adira grins, pointing at the lights. "When you were on the second floor, the lights there turned _green_. Do you know what that means?"

Alexis opens her mouth in realization, an understanding washing over her. "It means that-"

"It means that it flashes green for which floors have tributes in them," finishes a triumphant Adira, her eyes flashing. "And we're going to kill those tributes."

 **Another chapter! And two big deaths as well, leaving the pride at only two! What did you think of the deaths and this new development with the lights? Did anyone catch on?**

 **13th: Grace Oceanus, District Four Female, killed by Adira Hemlock.**

 **12th: Joel Fletcher, District Ten Male, killed by District Five Male.**

 **Joel - you were one of my favourite characters from the beginning. You were my own, and your worried yet hopeful nature was fun to write. I enjoyed your dynamic with the pride, and your relationship with Alexis helped her to reconcile a bit more over her brother's death. Rest peacefully.**

 **And now we're in the top eleven! Hope that this chapter was sufficiently exciting for you, and may the rest of the chapters be even more fun ;)) We're onto another loner this time, so that means it's Emmett's turn to grace the story! Who thinks he'll die? Let me know!**

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 **Hope that you guys are enjoying the story! We're getting closer to the final eight, and if I work hard at it, we could potentially get a victor by September! I like that idea ;))) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	19. Arena Night II: Bluff

**Emmett Lightway, 16, District Three Male**

He looks at the white tuxedo he's left on the bed that he had taken over, carelessly discarded on the floor in favour of the comfortable clothes he had found in the walk-in closets scattering the rooms. It had taken a few rooms to find clothes that actually fit him, but he eventually walked out to reveal to Hallie his comfortable clothing. She had nodded briskly and sent him to work on barricading their door, having him stack any loose furniture he could find in front of it as she worked on little gadgets that she had made from wiring in the ceilings and lights and pieces that she had requested from sponsors. She had promised that they'd go to use well when the time came, putting them in her pockets and ordering him around once more.

And that was perfectly fine. Hallie was some sort of genius; the Capitol knew it, he knew it, and she knew it. She'd put it all to good use. Emmett just has to make sure that it isn't used on him.

He walks out of his room and towards Hallie, who is currently watching the plains from the huge window at the end of the hallway. She turns around and nods briskly as he approaches her, a smile never cracking her small lips. "The two girls down there are moving towards the hotel. I think they might be trying to get in here with us. It's game time."

A shiver runs down Emmett's spine as he watches the moonlight shine over the arena, a whisper of cloud hovering in front of it and promising the dry savanna rain. But his focus is on the two shadows making their way to the bright lights of the hotel, one unmistakably holding a large ax and the other carrying what seems to be a broadsword. "Do you think they'll find where we are?"

Hallie shakes her head worriedly, her short hair flying around her face before settling back into place. "They won't. At least, they shouldn't. I think that they'll be searching the second and fifth floors like I told you yesterday. That's why we're here. They're not going to find us here; it's one of the last floors they would search, at least mathematically. Unless they hear us, we'll be safe."

But that doesn't stop her face from contorting into a worried glance as she looks at the plains.

The Capitol anthem blares through the loudspeakers in the hotel once more, and the two watch the District Four Female - "Grace Oceanus," says Hallie - and the District Ten Male - "Joel Fletcher," adds Emmett, he had paid attention to Ten in the score reveals - appear in the sky for a bit, smiling once more before the sky turns back to dark, leaving only the moon. And just like that, they hear the pounding of feet on the stairs below the third floor. The attack is coming.

Emmett first ducks behind the curtain, then comes back out when he sees that Hallie is making no attempt to hide. He shakes his head and mouths _why_ to her, only to have her answer with a confident whisper. "They're not going to come into here. We're perfectly safe, Emmett."

And that's when they hear the first thud against the door to the stairwell.

The furniture against the door shudders but holds firm, leaving time for Emmett to open the door to the third-last door to the left and duck inside. But Hallie waits outside, reaching inside her pocket for something…

Her gadgets!

Emmett opens the door and watches the door continue to quiver, a lampshade tumbling down from the pile. But Hallie walks to the door, moving the gadget to her right hand as she watches the trembling door. Emmett shudders as he watches the two girls continue to push against the door, their hidden figures coming closer to being revealed as the door quivers again. And as they slam it again, a splinter of wood comes loose from the side.

"Hey!" Hallie steps closer to the door, looking through the crack that the girls had made from the hallway. "One more push, and I'm blowing you up."

She displays the gadget, now making an ominous ticking noise. The girls obviously are intimidated by the device, as the door finally stops shaking and Emmett can hear a hurried conversation in the stairwell from his position in the hallway. After a minute, one of the girls appears in the crack in the door, her ginger-red hair bringing colour to the drab, grey shirt she's wearing. "We're not stopping. You didn't make an explosive out of wiring, no matter how smart a Three might be."

Hallie laughs coldly, the sound echoing through the hall and sending a chill down Emmett's spine. "You'd be surprised about what a _Three_ could do, Two. Want to experience it in person?"

The girl backs away from the door, conferring once more with her ally before stepping back towards it. "We've decided."

Hallie breathes a sigh of relief and drops her defensive position, Emmett moving closer to her with the knife that they had taken from the kitchen. He sighs in relief as he watches the two walking down the stairs, the first girl's hair leaving a flash of red in the stairwell before leaving it altogether. Emmett smiles slightly as Hallie turns towards him. The two move towards the door to inspect the crack, Hallie putting a critical finger through the hole. "They didn't do _that_ much damage, but it's pretty critical. We might have to find something to patch it up so no other tributes get any ideas about breaking in. It's only night two, after all. We can't afford to have anyone get in here until the top six at least. Do you want to -"

And that's when a yell of fury emerges from the stairwell, combined with the thud of an ax against the wooden door. Emmett yelps in fright as they hear the sound of splintering wood from outside and the girl wrenches her ax out before hitting the door again. It cracks in half this time, and the girl from Seven pushes it over before gazing in cold satisfaction at Hallie. "You're dying first."

"Stay away from her!" yells Emmett before he realizes what he's doing, brandishing his knife and moving closer to the girl. It makes her back away for an instant, and that's all the time that Hallie takes to throw her explosive at her. The girl yells in surprise and vanishes up the stairwell with her partner as the explosive detonates, sending shattered pieces of the door and couches ricocheting towards Hallie and Emmett. They hit the floor and hold their hands over their heads as the explosion ends, leaving the rancid smell of a plastic chair starting to burn.

The two gasp in relief as the smoke in the air rapidly clears, leaving the sight of a blackened stairwell beyond the burning barricade. Hallie turns towards Emmett, a genuine smile on her face. "Thanks for the help. I can't believe it worked!"

Emmett chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and looking back to the barricade. "I guess… I guess I did what had to be done. And your explosive worked! How did you get gunpowder and the like to make that? Did a sponsor send it when I was asleep?"

Hallie giggles, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she leans in towards Emmett. "The explosives that I "made" were from the bloodbath. I picked them up when no one was looking and ran like mad towards the hotel. I pretended to make the explosives to confuse you and make the audience think I'm better than I am. I can't make explosives out of thin air! After all, the only time I'm able to use tech is when I'm working. The Capitol still limits us in the camps. They don't trust us yet."

Emmett remembers with chagrin the dozens of work camps lining the outskirts of cities in Three, filled with people wasting away as they waited to go back to work in the long trucks that the companies all used to pick up their workers. Only the upper classes in Three had homes that they could be secure in. His mother told him that there were murders every night in the camps. They had nothing. The bombs from the Dark Days had destroyed everything, and the Capitol hadn't made a move to repair it. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Hallie nods resignedly, turning back to the barricade and feeling for the other explosives in her pocket. "It's life. Now, are we going to stay on this floor or move?"

Emmett looks at their barricade, a piece of one of the couches they had shoved in front of the door falling to the floor as they watch. "We should probably move. Which floor should we go to?"

Hallie ponders over the question, looking out the window to the plains below them. "Maybe the first floor would be beneficial. You don't expect anyone to be on that floor when the beds are all up here, do you? We can hide in the kitchen, if anything at all. And there'll be food!"

Emmett nods, remembering his encounter with the girl from Twelve. "And if anyone finds us, we can fight them off with your explosives."

"Homemade is always the way to go," laughs Hallie, her eyes twinkling. She looks different. She looks younger. "We should get moving. Now, to get over these couches."

Emmett grabs the fire extinguisher and sprays it over the melting pile, putting it out with a burst of smoke and steam before jumping over it all. "Coming?"

Hallie nods, stepping over the side of the pile and walking through the broken, jagged remainders of their wooden door. "Let's move. I don't trust those girls anymore than I trust those lions in the arena. We better get to the kitchen quickly."

Emmett starts to jog down the stairs, taking two at a time as they make their way past the silent second floor. Hallie stops for a moment when she imagines seeing a boy running by the window glass in the door to the second floor, but the two ignore it after looking inside and threatening whatever's in there with their explosive. Nothing emerges and they continue to the kitchen, grabbing the steaming plates of spaghetti and meatballs before going through a swinging door at the back of the kitchen and discovering a small backroom.

"It's perfect!" says Hallie as they start to slurp their plates of spaghetti, the two having already locked the door tightly and pushed a long bench in front of it in an attempt at security. "They'll never find us here. Why, we could make it to the final four in here!"

Emmett laughs, his blonde hair shaking as he sits down. "I'm surprised that we made it this far. I thought I was doomed as soon as the Games started! I never imagined myself holding a weapon or using it. I can't kill anyone here. The only way I'm winning is by stealth."

Hallie nods sympathetically, her brown locks tumbling over her narrow face. "I think I can kill in this game. I mean, it's us or them, you know?"

Emmett nods, but he _doesn't_ know. He can't kill them. He can't.

Hallie stands up and puts her plate on the bench, yawning as she does so. "I guess I'll get to sleep soon. You okay with the lights off?"

Emmett nods as Hallie flicks off the lights, burying his head in his arms and starting to drift off. He's _tired_! Not even death could stop him from falling asleep. He feels safe in the darkness. He can't see a thing, and no one can see him. It's perfect.

But not even the darkness can protect him from the next cannon that rings out into the night.

 **Another chapter finished! I'm glad with this chapter, and we've got another death! You'll find out who it is in the next chapter, and what a chapter it's going to be ;)))**

 **By the way, that means we're at the top ten! I won't reveal the death b/c of how the next chapter is taking place at the same time as this one, so you guys are left in the dark until hopefully tomorrow!**

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 **Hoping that I can continue this streak! That'd be really awesome :))) Until then, read, review, and possibly follow and fave if you want to XD Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	20. Arena Night II: Retreat

**Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female**

She bites her lip to keep herself from screaming at Alexis as she waits at the floor to the fourth floor, watching for any sign of movement from the door. But she can't hear anything yet, and the door seems to be locked. But she can't risk another moment like with the Threes. That was _disastrous_ , with both of the tributes escaping due to an explosive that the girl had managed to create out of thin air and throw at the two. Adira had escaped with only minor burns, but Alexis had singed her ginger-red hair and burned her back as she had run up the stairs, away from the explosion. They still hadn't checked out the scene yet, nervous that the girl would appear and throw another at them. They can't afford another disaster like that. _Adira_ can't afford another disaster like that.

The girl was tricky. Adira hadn't paid much attention to her interview, but she was smart, _cunning_. She was a worthy threat in this arena of scared teenagers. She was probably the only one who could make those bombs. And managing to scare even Adira away was impressive. The girl had spirit. But she'd have to be crushed soon. Spirited tributes always meant trouble.

She just has to wait. Wait for Alexis to finish looking at the roof and come back down, and they can finally start battering down the door. And they can finally start to thin down this field of eleven.

It would have been easier if they still had the other two tributes in their alliance, but that Joel had died from a tribute in the hotel and Grace had gone absolutely crazy, - It was called gone wild in Seven - attacking Adira and screaming something about district loyalty and her partner. Adira had killed the poor soul in the bloodbath, the boy coughing one more time before succumbing to her ax. Grace had evidently remembered that. You couldn't seem to trust a Four. They were too loyal, too weak in the ways that they stuck together. So she had stabbed the raging, bloodthirsty girl in the chest, letting her bleed out in the hot, dry arena. In hindsight, she should have avoided killing the boy from Four herself, but it didn't matter now. All that mattered was winning. She couldn't afford to think of anything else.

She yawns slightly as she hears footsteps coming back down the stairs, rubbing her eyes and looking up at a descending Alexis. It's got to be at least 10:00 PM by now; the stars were showing clearly in the sky when they first entered the hotel. They'll go to sleep soon. They just need a kill first.

Alexis finally makes her way to Adira, holding her sword and looking warily at the door. "You ready?"

Adira nods slightly, shifting her ax to her right hand and taking her first swing at the door. The ax slams into the wood with a satisfying crash, the wood splintering as she wrenches it out and starts once more. Alexis does the same with her sword, carving a hole beside the doorknob before she reaches her hand in and pulls. But she brings it out quickly with a scream, holding her now-bleeding hand. One of the kids in the floor has smashed a plate against it.

Alexis doubles back before slamming her sword through the hole, earning a scream of fury as she seems to hit one of the tributes. She smiles and steps back for Adira to attack once more, this time breaking through the top of the door and cutting through the rest of the wood. They're almost in.

It's only a few couches and tables that the tributes had pushed up against the door, and Adira bites back a laugh as she walks into the hallway. The tributes are gone; disappeared into one of the rooms, but they'll find them soon enough. Oh, they will.

Alexis opens the first door and smashes through the bathroom door, quickly looking in the closet before stepping back out with a shrug. Adira nods and moves to the other side of the hallway, quickly scanning each room before slamming the door and moving on to the next one. The thought that they might have hidden in the furniture of their barricade, but a quick glance back to it proves that there's no room for them to hide. They're somewhere on this floor. And even if there's only one of them, it's still one kill. It's still a cannon, and another step closer to winning.

She keeps looking through the rooms, scoffing when she sees a dress laid carefully down on a bed in one of the rooms. It's obvious that it's one of the outfits from the bloodbath, with music notes carefully imprinted on the dress and a pattern of grey tracing down the side. Adira nods slightly and looks around the room, bashing down the bathroom door and shattering the glass door of the shower with her ax. But there's no one there, and she quickly closes the door before moving onto the next room. Where are the tributes?

A cry of satisfaction suddenly comes from Alexis' side of the hotel floor, and Adira runs to the one open door on her side to find Alexis standing over the terrified boy from Twelve. He's quivering with a pen and a piece of paper in his hand, looking up at Alexis with tears in his eyes. Adira smiles with pleasure and steps towards the boy, her ax dragging on the carpeted floor as she gets closer. Finally a kill! Finally!

The boy yells hoarsely for help, pushing past Alexis and attempting to break through the door. "Ashira! Ashira! Help! Help! Ashira, I need help! Please! Ashira! Ashira!"

But there's no answer to his cries, and Adira knees him to the ground. The gasping boy curls up defensively into a ball and screams in fear, just in time for Adira to slam her ax into his side. The boy screams again before she hits him one last time in the head with her blade, and he finally falls silent.

The cannon booms quickly and she smiles, wiping the bloodstains on the spread of the bed in the room before stepping back into the hallway. A girl flits through the hallway and past the barricade, into the stairwell and down the steps before Adira has time to react. Adira curses under her breath as she starts to follow the girl, Alexis right on her heels. They race down the steps, quickly looking down the hallway of each floor before heading towards the next one. But by the time they get outside, they still haven't found her.

"We could check the lights," Alexis suggests, and they walk over to a point where they can see the red and green lights of the hotel. The second and fourth floors are flashing green, while the others have turned to red.

Adira heaves a heavy sigh, putting her ax down and sitting on the ground. "Do you want to go now, or sleep and wait for tomorrow?"

Alexis shrugs, sitting down next to Adira and yawning widely. "I guess we better sleep. We can't really kill anyone when we've been up for sixteen-plus hours. We better find a place to hide first."

Adira nods, standing up and grabbing her bag and ax before looking around the area for another spot to sleep. It's found in a small shack next to the hotel, housing all sorts of appliances for the maintenance of the hotel. The two quickly settle down and lock the door, waiting for sleep to come.

"I wonder if they had anyone live in the hotel to test it all out. They've got to make sure it's tribute-satisfactory, you know?" Alexis says, turning towards Adira. "Being a test subject for the arena wouldn't be a half-bad job. I've done worse."

"So have I." Adira turns to her sides and clutches her ax, a rush of the years she's spent chopping down trees and hiding from the orphanage coming back to her. There have always been two log houses in Seven near the edge of every logging town for workers; one for men and one for women. She bunked with the women for the night before heading back out to work, her ax diligently chopping down the next tree. She never used wedges. They were deemed unnecessary for the workers, and they were forced to work in groups of two. One spent their time chopping the tree until it was time for the other to cut, and the other watched for the movement of the tree, making sure it didn't suddenly crash down onto both of them. She always liked being a spotter. She liked being able to watch for death, to be able to warn her partner in case the tree was leaning towards them. She felt… in control.

"Well, I'd still like to test arenas. Wonder if anyone had to go into last year's arena to test it out." Alexis laughs at the thought, and even Adira smiles at the thought of shivering Capitolites exploring the small, frigid sea ice arena that was last year. Even if it was surrounded by the stadium that had housed arenas until this year, it still would have been freezing. The tributes had felt the same, with twenty-three dying in only a day and an hour.

"I'd love to stay in this hotel if it wasn't for the fact that we were supposed to kill each other. Have you ever seen anything so fancy?" Alexis whispers, and Adira nods. It _was_ a beautiful hotel, better than anything in Seven. Any form of hotels in Seven wasn't complete there without prostitutes and hookers, whispering seductively to the men and women walking through the dingy lobby. She'd love to experience it by herself. People were too messy, too noisy.

"Well, I'm going to try to sleep. Night!" Alexis turns over on her side and falls silent, soon leaving only Adira left awake. She listens quietly to the sounds of the night, fidgeting as she hears a roar in the distance. The lions were strong, confident animals she didn't want to mess with. They were too powerful together for any tribute to fight, only avoid. And Adira doesn't like running.

A beeping of a parachute falling onto the plains stirs her from drowsing, the sound soon stopping when it reaches its owner. Adira stands up and looks through the window, only seeing the blackness of the arena and the red and green lights of the hotel. The first floor is still green, yet the fourth isn't green anymore, being replaced by the second. Whoever was running around in the hotel was cautious; always moving around to ensure their safety. But they hadn't bet on the lights. With those lights, she could catch anyone moving around. They weren't ever truly safe there. Only the plains, occupied by starving, terrified tributes and predators waiting to hunt them, provided some degree of anonymity.

They'll search the hotel again tomorrow, paying more attention to the first floor. She hadn't been able to properly look through the lobby and kitchen yet, only glimpsing it on her way up. There must be dozens of hiding places in there, waiting for a lonely tribute to find them and wait until more cannons boomed. But they'd be found. No one was ever safe in an arena where even your district partner was against you. It was good that she had killed Grace. She didn't need anyone on her alliance who wasn't trustworthy. She could only rely on herself. Alexis had proved her worth thus far, but if she ever failed to deliver or even _hinted_ at defection, she'd be the next to die.

And when the rest were gone, she could finally be alone.

 **Another chapter! *sings praises to the heavens for me getting a SIXTH update in a row* Now we finally know who died in this fateful night, and what a night it was! A fierce conflict, our artistic Corey dying, and Ashira abandoning him instead of taking a stand against the girls. Now, we'll have to wait for tomorrow to see if Adira makes good on her promise to find Emmett and Hallie so she can kill them both. Because anything can happen in the final ten, as we'll see in the next few chapters…**

 **11th: Corey Gasson, District Twelve Male, killed by Adira Hemlock**

 **You would have been great to focus on as a pov, Corey. You sparked almost-a-friendship with Ashira, but she wasn't able to commit herself fully to you and fled. We'll see the repercussions of that in the following chapters, and it'll be wonderful ;) I'll miss you, my dear artist!**

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 **(If anyone's confused about the repost, it's b/c I posted it once before the 24 hour marker and now am doing it again to officially update it XD) Let's hope that I can get another chapter finished for tomorrow and make this seven updates! in a row! If I can somehow manage to do that, I'd be very impressed. It'd make up for the long waiting period, don'tcha think? Until our next chapter, TheAmazingJAJ**


	21. Arena Day III: Decision

**Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

She feels her tears running down her cheeks and dropping into the long grass of her hiding spot, falling into the surprisingly-soft ground that's under her feet.

She abandoned Corey… She left him to die… And now she's all alone. All alone.

She can't even fathom the fact that he's gone. Ever she got into the Capitol, she always had a piece of her home with her. It was Corey, but he's gone now. He's gone.

And he's never coming back.

So why can't she seem to muster any more pain from his death?

She's tried to feel more remorse for the death of her companion, but the only hurt that she can feel is the fact that she ran away. She should have stayed to help him. She should have taken a stand. But it's finished now. She can't do anything more. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't miss Corey. She just hadn't bonded with him enough.

Her mother had always said she was dispassionate, especially whenever the family had gotten into spirited discussions about the Games. Mother had always taken a stand against the Games, her brilliant eyes flashing as she argued with her grandparents about why the Games should end. She had such wonderful arguments for why they should end, and she was never afraid to flaunt them to the family. But whenever she called on Ashira to provide her own opinion, all Ashira could muster was a half-hearted reply about how the Games killed children. She just couldn't relate it to herself, it had never carried a great weight for her. There were a Hunger Games, and every year two children from District Twelve were reaped from the town square and sent off to die. It hadn't felt real, just another thing to watch on the television. She couldn't feel for the tributes, get scared about the reapings, cheer for the victors. Her mother had always sighed and nodded, telling Ashira to use more emotion in her responses. To her mother, it was the only way she could keep rising.

But Ashira's afraid now.

She stands up and looks up at the hotel, the flashing glass shining down on the waking arena. Those lights that kept her awake last night are still flashing, with the first and fifth floors bearing green lights, and the others shining red. She blinks away tears and looks away, towards the river that she can see in the distance so clearly. She needs water, she hasn't drunk anything since yesterday.

It's been a long time since yesterday.

Yesterday, she had been so confident in the fact that she had access to water for the rest of the Games that she hadn't collected any at all, spending her time watching the beautiful plains below. She had been able to spot the occasional tribute, but the plains had been empty for the most part. But she hadn't cared at all. She had felt so safe in that floor, so far away from the rest of the world. She wouldn't have had to make any decisions if she had stayed. She could have lived through the games without moving a muscle, just waiting for the rest to die.

 _Just waiting for herself to die._

But she forgot that this is the _Hunger Games_ , for crying out loud, and that no one can get away with hiding the whole time. She couldn't just avoid the rest of the tributes. She has to fight them.

Right on cue, a parachute comes falling from the sky. Ashira looks up at the parcel, blinking in surprise in the light of the sun, and grabs the silver canister to stop it from beeping. Inside is a small, silver knife, with a tiny note folded around the metal.

 _Take a side, Ashira. A fan._

She stares at the note, looking at the small words that carry so much weight. It's true. She can't spend her whole time avoiding this situation. She has to move. She has to choose to live or to die, to fight or to hide. She will. And she'll start with water.

She walks towards the river with her knife in her right hand, looking nervously around her at the rest of the arena. There's only ten of them left. Ten, lost, frightened children, on a knife's edge between life and death. They're trapped in the middle. And they'll all have to go one way or the other.

She fingers her chain, the simple golden metal a comfort against her neck. Then she hides it under her shirt once more and keeps going, continuing to hold her sponsor gift. The knife feels foreign in her hand, a different feel than the kitchen knife that she had managed to grab that first day. Maybe it was the difference in purposes. She had held kitchen knives many times before to help with dinner, but this knife is meant for death and death alone. It feels lethal. It feels dangerous.

A sudden roar comes from the distance and Ashira looks to her right, only to see the lions starting to approach her. It's one of the bigger females in the lead, and if she looks closely, there's three more right behind her.

She bites back a scream of fear and moves slowly towards the river, still keeping an eye on the four lions. They're still walking towards her with a confident aura about them, almost as if they knew something that she doesn't. It's almost as if…

 _She's walking right into a trap._

She spins around in time to see one of the males launching themselves at her, the lethal claws just missing her cheek as she dives away. He spins around and tries again, this time to be met by the metal of Ashira's knife. It leaves a long, bloody scratch on his side, and he howls in pain before turning slowly towards Ashira. In her focus on him, because she only focused on attacking, not fleeing, she had neglected to notice the rest of the pack approaching her. And now she's surrounded.

The roaring lions are still relatively far away from her, but she remembers classes on great cats in her science courses at the small school in Twelve. She can't let them get close enough to sprint at her and kill her off, she knows that they can run almost a quarter as fast as the Capitol _trains_ at top speed! There's only one place left for her to go, one that she can hopefully rely on: the river. It's her only hope.

She bolts for the river, running as fast as she possibly can to the shallows of this sanctuary. She reaches it just before the lions, running into the river until she's up to her chest. But as she starts to go deeper, she notices the docile crocodiles floating alongside the other edge of the river. Another trap.

She screams in fear and runs out as fast as she can, running just alongside the riverbank in an effort to keep the lions at bay. They still follow her, but a few of the less nimble-footed lions stumble into the river, only to be met by the hungry crocodiles and their huge, snapping jaws. She hears the yowls of the lions as they stop to help their comrades, but she doesn't look back. She has to find a place to hide.

She runs towards a tree that she can see in the distance, almost stumbling over herself in her effort to get to it. Maybe lions can't climb. Maybe she'll be safe there.

After all, it's the only hope she has.

Her lungs soon start to gasp for air, and Ashira slows down slightly in her race for survival. As she continues to run, she risks a glance backward to be greeted by a few of the lions still chasing her in the distance. They haven't stopped yet. She closes her eyes and runs faster, tapping into her last reservoirs of energy. She has to keep moving! She has to!

She leaps over a rock and starts to zigzag around the plains, hoping that it would confuse any lions still chasing her. She doesn't want to look back again to see if it's working. She doesn't want to know that she's wrong.

She can see an orange-spotted giraffe near the tree as she continues to run, but she doesn't stop running. Even if the giraffe will kill her as well, it feels safer to take her chances with a herbivore, rather than the lions. She'd do anything to avoid those lions. But they're starting to catch up. And she's starting to slow down.

She keeps trying to run faster, but all her legs can manage to do is struggle to keep at the same furious pace that she's been keeping. She can't run like she could before, and the lions are only moving faster. She looks back again, and she can now see the two lions continue to race after her. She's going to get caught.

She reaches the giraffe and runs under its legs in her effort to get to the tree, but she stumbles on a root and crashes into the ground. This is it. This is the end. She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die.

But as the seconds tick by and she gets back to her feet, she hasn't died.

The lions don't even approach her as she stands back up, holding her hands to her sides and wheezing loudly. They're intimidated by the giant giraffe that's right in front of her, placidly watching the golden predators.

She stands up and gazes in wonder at the mighty giraffe, who chomps on another mouthful of leaves from the tree as it stares at the lions. Another giraffe approaches and snorts wildly, kicking with its front leg at the two lions. One is hit by the huge hoof and slams into the ground, crimson blood bleeding from it's soft stomach as it collapses onto the grass. The other lion flees, it's golden paws kicking up a storm of dust as it runs back to it's pack mates. She's safe.

Ashira gasps for breath as she watches the lion run, putting her hand on the giant tree as she tries not to collapse onto the dusty ground. The giraffes have settled themselves once more, taking mouthfuls of leaves and chewing them happily. They don't seem to notice her, or if they do, they're ignoring her. They must think she's too small to do them any harm. And they're right - even with this knife, the most she could do is slash one of them on the leg before getting kicked to death, like the other lion that's collapsed on the ground. Vultures are already circling down from the skies to start a feast, cawing hoarsely to one another as they start to rip chunks of meat from the dead lion.

She finally catches her breath once more and heaves a loud sigh, looking up at the giraffes again. Even though they're herbivores, prey to be killed by the lions, they can defend themselves and attack the lions when they need to. They don't take just one side in their circle of life. They can step between both of them, protecting themselves and their herd.

She smiles up at the beasts and puts a hand on the tree, starting to pull herself up the gnarled trunk. She'll sleep up here tonight, next to the giraffes. Tomorrow she can move, look for more safe spots, and be ready to fight anyone who gets in her path - or run if she needs to. She doesn't have to pick a side. She can pick both.

And she can finally feel at peace.

 **And that's the seventh update in a row! EEEEEEEEE! I don't think I'll get another chapter out tomorrow, but I'll sure try XDDDDD I hope you guys enjoyed Ashira in her fight for survival! Now she has a knife, courtesy of goldie031, and she's safe in that acacia tree (though she doesn't know it's name). I hope you enjoyed the giraffes! I remembered reading about how lions can be intimidated of giraffes because of their kicks when I was young, so I put that to good use to save our darling from Twelve. Hope you enjoyed that!**

 **We'll be seeing another familiar face next time (guess! guess!) who you'll find out when that chapter is posted ;) Can't tell you everything! I'm really inspired for this story, so I hope that it's tomorrow, but if not, that's perfectly fine XDD As long as you guys are somewhat happy :)**

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 **We're into Night Three with ten tributes left next chapter! That's exciting to me, as we're getting nearer to the end of the story… Who do you think will become victor?**

 **Also, for** _ **fifteen**_ **sponsor points, tell me what my style of writing is like and if you enjoy it in at least four sentences (can't make it too easy if it's fifteen points!). I want to hear your feedback! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	22. Arena Night III: Stampede

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

He watches the river from his spot in the grass, yawning widely as he does so. It's night three; close to the longest games record. There have never been a Games over four days, the arenas had been too small or the bloodbath too big for it to happen. They had always hovered around from fifteen hours to close to four days, always ending with another shattered victor.

But unless nine more tributes died by the morning of Day Four, that record will be broken.

Mother and Father had always pointed out the weaknesses of each of the four victors in their final fight, telling Sidney that if their opponent had taken advantage of a weak leg, ran instead of fighting or used another weapon, the Games would have gone differently. But in the end, there was only one victor in each Hunger Games, and their opponents had died.

He doesn't want to be that opponent.

He starts to listen to the sky for any signs of the Capitol anthem; his days in the arena had taught him to pay attention to any deaths. Even if he hadn't heard any cannons today, he couldn't be too sure. Something might have happened in the night.

Animals start to yelp and howl as he waits, even the distinct sound of an elephant trumpeting coming to his ears. But he pays no attention to those, they aren't his focus. It's the sky that holds his attention. It's almost time for the anthem.

A cannon shatters his focus as it rings out into the cool night, causing him to whip around and look at the horizon. It didn't sound like it came from the hotel. It must have been one of the lone tributes out on the plains who was the next to die, likely from one of the nocturnal predators roaming the savanna. It could have easily been _him_.

He shivers and brings out another one of his painkillers, quickly swallowing it and washing it down with a sip of water from one of his few remaining bottles. He'd somehow managed to get a sponsor yesterday; probably due to the fact that he had managed to blow up all of those cornucopia supplies, and now he was able to help his throbbing leg. The painkillers act quickly, Capitol products always do, and he soon smiles as the pain fades away. He's free for another few hours. He'll take another pill later. It always helps.

The Capitol anthem quickly plays in the sky before revealing the face of the District Six Male, who stares sullenly at the camera before vanishing back into the clouds. Sidney blinks in surprise as he continues to gaze up at the sky, he had completely forgotten about the boy. The boy had faded into Sidney's mind as he had escaped from the pride and spent the past few days in this field, hoping that his supplies could keep him alive.

They have.

He stands up and walks out of the fields, yawning widely as he does so. Maybe he can find a different place to sleep tonight. He can't hunker down in one spot for too long, Mother and Father have taught him too much about being on the move to lose pursuers. Staying in that field again would only invite disaster. He'll walk for a mile and find another hiding spot there, he's not willing to go any further. The pain from his leg is subdued due to the painkillers, but it hasn't disappeared. He doesn't need to hurt it because of false confidence. He can't afford any mistakes right now. Not when the final eight is so close to his reach.

He starts to walk, stopping after a few steps and looking up at the hotel. The lights are still flashing rapidly on the hotel, with the first and second floors flashing green while the others are still red. Right before his eyes, the third floor turns green, with the second soon turning red. What's up with the hotel? It's been always changing with the days, and he had spent the last day observing the mammoth building change its lights. But the first floor had stayed the same for close to a day, always flashing that infernal shade of green. Why?

He turns his attention away from the dancing lights and continues to walk, looking about him for any threats. He's spent too much time watching the buildings, not looking for safe spots in the arena. Everyone in the arena had heard those lions roaring during the bloodbath. He doesn't need to get mauled tonight.

As he stretches his arms and yawns widely, he spots another tribute out of the corner of his eye. They look dazed and tired as they approach him, carrying some sort of weapon. As they get closer, he realizes that it's what seems to be the District Eight Female, carrying what seems to be a spear.

And she's close enough for Sidney to see the whites of her enraged eyes.

He starts to run, bringing out the knife from his pocket and watching the girl. She seems to be fast, and the spear that she's carrying seems like it's covered in something… in something _red_.

He keeps running, catching his breath and clenching his knife tightly. He had observed tributes throwing spears in training; the sharp weapons could fly into the air and impale a fleeing tribute if wielded by a steady hand. He doesn't know if the District Eight Female has a steady hand, but he's not going to stick around to find out.

He darts past the river, staying to the side and keeping a generous distance away from the crocodiles. They seem to be asleep, but he doesn't trust the vicious reptiles. He just has to keep moving and find a place to hide. And if he can't, he'll have to face her.

He sees a group of animals gathering around the side of the riverbank ahead of him, some slowly starting to cross it while others snort and wait for their turn to cross.

A group of animals.

 _Wild_ animals.

And if he can frighten them…

 _He can start a stampede_.

He sprints towards the animals, taking another glance back to the girl. She throws the spear at him, and he holds his breath as it flies to his side. The girl curses loudly and stops to pick up her weapon, leaving Sidney time to keep on running towards the animals. They look like the buffalo that he had learned about in class when he was young, but they seem wilder, skinnier, scruffier. They're some sort of savanna-equivalent to the buffalo. But it doesn't matter. As long as he can start a stampede to distract the girl, he'll be safe.

His parents had always told him to stay away from animals that he didn't know about. They warned that they could always be dangerous, volatile, creatures that could kill him that if he isn't careful. But right now, they might be his only hope. He doesn't need to fight the girl from Eight; she seems like she's snapped from the stress of the arena. Insane people put in dangerous positions wouldn't hesitate to put themselves at risk, as long as it meant that they could accomplish their goal. He'll have to rely on that fact. He can't have her ditch him when he's so close to getting her trapped.

He runs up to the first buffalo-creature he can find and slashes it's leg with a knife, kicking it in the behind to let it react to him. The animal snorts and wheels towards him, it's eyes flashing in anger as it lowers its head. He hadn't noticed the sharp horns on the creatures, but he does now. He's got their attention.

A crocodile snaps at some of the creatures that are wading in the river as he's taunting the first creature, turning the herd back towards safety on the other side of the river. The crocodile snaps again and the creatures go into a panic, racing towards the one that Sidney's taunting. Sidney takes it as a sign to run, racing towards the rapidly approaching girl from Eight. She seems to be surprised by his decision, but she keeps running towards him. And just as she swings her spear towards him, he dives out of the way.

He regains his feet as the creatures charge towards the girl, trampling her as they race towards wherever they're going now. None of them approach Sidney, their only focus on the animals in front of him. It's like he's invisible.

The Eight girl's cannon booms as they continue to run, none of the beasts hesitating for an instant. They keep on going, and the last of them eventually vanish from where Sidney's standing right now. He can see them starting to settle down on the horizon, the herd slowing down before settling onto the ground where they are and starting to placidly chew on the grass of the plains. The stampede is over.

A cry for joy escapes Sidney's lips before he can help himself, the sound echoing through the air before fading into the night sky. Another death. There are only eight tributes left. Only eight.

Mother and Father would be watching him right now, Mother nodding in silent approval while his Father would pump his fist in the air, his excitement unable to be contained. Father could never contain his excitement when he watched television.

But would it be because their son was in the final eight, or because District Two was in the final eight?

He shouldn't be thinking that. Of course, his family loved him, they were just patriotic to the Capitol. But if they had to choose between the Capitol and him, they'd choose him without a doubt.

He hoped.

He keeps walking, searching for anywhere to rest. His leg starts to act up, the pain returning slowly, and he reaches into his pack for a painkiller. The frantic run must have hurt his burn, enough so to overwhelm his painkiller. He looks inside the container to find six pills left, all ready to be consumed.

He pauses, slowly screwing the lid of the container back onto it. He doesn't _truly_ need one right now, he just needs to go to sleep, and he can do that without the help of the pills. He's got to save those for later. He can't afford to run out of them, especially when the Games are so close to finishing. He can't afford to lose because he's run out of painkillers.

He puts the container back into his small bag, taking out some of the stale bread that he had snatched from the kitchen and quickly taking a bite. He had eaten the warmer foods yesterday, knowing that they would soon go bad. Now he just has bread, fruit, and water, all ready for him to eat. He wrinkles his nose slightly, remembering the roast beef that he had eaten in the Capitol a few nights before the Games. The aroma of the meat had been so good, causing him to eat as much as he could while it was still hot. Alexis had laughed and done the same, shoving it into her mouth and moaning with satisfaction as she swallowed. But she was with the pride now, likely eating the finest foods from the hotel kitchen and hunting tributes down. And she'd kill him as well.  
He rolls over onto his side and closes his eyes, trying to forget his worries. He doesn't need to think of the negative, the things that'll shake his focus. He's got to keep looking forward. Because in the Hunger Games, you can't dwell on the past. You have to keep fighting, keep playing, keep surviving, keep killing. Because this game isn't like any other. In this game, the prize is his life.

And he doesn't want to lose.

 **Another chapter finished! Hooray! I'm very glad that I've finished this one, as it was giving me a bit of difficulty along the way (mainly due to lengthening it XD) but it's finished, and now we are finally into the final eight with five featured characters still alive! Any predictions for victor yet? We're only seven deaths away…**

 **10th: District Six Male, killed by crocodiles.**

 **9th: District Eight Female, killed by wildebeest stampede and Sidney Fawkes.**

 **Bet you guys thought that the girl killed the District Six Male, didn't you ;) I need a few arena deaths! Also, lol at Sidney not knowing what wildebeest were (although I don't think that's exactly a large topic in Panem)**

 **Keep sponsoring, guys! We're getting close to the end, so I'll be stopping sponsors from sponsoring at the final four :) So get your kicks in while you can! Go back and review chapters you haven't if you need to!**

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 **Let's hope for another chapter tomorrow! I'm enjoying this streak :D until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	23. Arena Day IV: Refusal

**Alexis Telle, 17, District Two Female**

She watches Adira with annoyance as her partner searches again through the lobby, opening doors and peeking behind curtains in an effort to find whoever's on the first floor. Doesn't Adira know when to stop? Can't she just accept the fact that there's no one in the lobby? They should just leave. They don't need to hunt for the rest of the day. The other tributes will die on their own, they just have to watch out for themselves.

Because if Alexis doesn't, she might be the next to die.

Adira gives a sigh of disappointment as she emerges from behind one of the velvet-covered couches, holding her ever-present ax and no tribute. "Guess they aren't in the lobby, wherever they are."

"How about we go actually search the kitchen rather than waste our time in here, where any tribute can easily escape out to the plains?" Alexis snaps, glaring at Adira. She turns around and walks to the large kitchen, greedily inhaling the unmistakable aroma of fresh-baked bread. It's as if whatever bond that had kept the two girls together for the past few days had snapped this morning, leaving the two on edge. Adira's been snappy all day, pushing Alexis around and refusing to listen to her comments. But in Adira's defense, Alexis hasn't been that great either. She had flat-out refused to help search the lobby, sitting down on a chair and filing her nails with one of the smaller knives that she had scavenged from the cornucopia instead.

The mood is clear. The alliance is splitting up at any minute. And they might both become casualties if they aren't careful.

Alexis grabs a piece of bread and starts to eat, Adira doing the same. The two smile uncertainly at each other as they eat the bread, ignoring their search. They haven't eaten for a while, and the bread is so filling, it's able to help calm the brewing emotions between the two.

Adira is the first to finish, putting the plate down and stalking towards the doors at the end of the kitchen. Alexis laughs sarcastically, leaning on the end of the counter as she watches Adira approach the doors. "You know that there isn't going to be any-"

She pauses as the door refuses to move, the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking as Adira jiggles the doorknob. A smile comes to Adira's face and she slams her ax into the door, chipping the wood bit by bit. Closer… closer…

The door _flies_ open and hits Adira in the face, leaving room for a small girl - the girl from _Three_ \- to run out of the kitchen and into the lobby, leaving Adira standing up with a bleeding nose. She grabs the next one by his collar and stabs him without a qualm, leaving the skinny boy to collapse to the floor before coughing up blood. Alexis stabs him again, her sword sinking into his neck and letting more blood spray onto the sides of the counters.

The cannon booms.

Adira nods and leaves his corpse on the kitchen floor, starting to pursue the first girl. "We're going to make her pay, Alexis. Hurry up!"

Alexis pauses, looking at Adira. Her face seems filled with anger and excitement, the adrenaline rush from a potential chase already coursing through her veins. She's been in charge since Day One, and no one else has had a say in it. No one. "No."

Adira turns around, her face twisting into a confused gaze. "Why not?"

Alexis smiles, twirling her sword around her head. "I don't always have to follow you into battle, Adira. We should let the girl go. The animals out there will take care of her quickly enough. Let's go somewhere else. The night's going to be here in a few hours."

Adira snorts in disbelief, taking a step towards Alexis. "Are you kidding? We have to thin the field! If we leave that girl alive, we're going to get stabbed by her tomorrow. You can't leave any loose ends here, Alexis! Now, hurry up!"

Alexis stands firm, stabbing her sword into the wooden cabinets to her right for emphasis. "I'm staying here. I'm not working with you anymore."

"You've made your choice." Adira seems surprisingly calm as she walks away, disappearing from view as she enters the lobby. Alexis breathes a sigh of relief, wrenching her sword out and looking back at the still-swinging door. She's safe. No, she's more than safe, she's _free_. And that's all she can ask for in these last few days.

But she doesn't realize what her old ally is doing until Adira bursts back into the room with her ax, screaming at Alexis as she throws the ax directly at her forehead.

Alexis ducks just in time and screams, running with her sword to the stairs. Adira is right behind her, having grabbed her fallen ax and gotten back to the chase with nearly-inhuman speed. Alexis races into the stairwell and up the stairs, turning and turning with the stairs as they race up the hotel. Adira doesn't stop, not even slowing down as she keeps chasing Alexis. But she hasn't thrown her ax at Alexis again. She's waiting for a moment where Alexis will slow down. She doesn't want to waste any opportunities.

So Alexis won't give her any.

She keeps running towards the top of the hotel, gripping the hilt of her sword and not letting Adira get any chance to kill her. But there's only so many stairs in the hotel, and she's going to run out of them soon. She needs a way out. But if she pauses at any doors, she'll give Adira a chance to throw that ax. And she knows that Adira rarely misses. There's no way out. She's going to get trapped. Unless.

She keeps running, but gears herself to get ready to stop and turn. And just as she passes the door to the fourth floor, she turns around and hurls herself at Adira.

Adira's caught off guard by the attack, not even lifting her ax as she's tackled by Alexis. The two crash down the stairs, falling to the third landing. Alexis doesn't waste any time in getting back up onto her feet, drawing her sword and stabbing at Adira. But Adira's just as quick, leaping away and clutching her neck as she glares at Alexis. The two stare at each other for a second, trying to guess who's going to attack first. But as time ticks on, neither of them makes a move. It's nearly suicide.

Alexis takes the first attack, swinging her sword at Adira and slicing the side of her arm. Adira growls through the pain and strikes back, her ax missing Alexis as the blood from her wound starts to drip down and onto the ax. Alexis yells and strikes again, her sword missing Adira's face and crashing into the wall before Alexis yanks it back.

Adira charges at Alexis, her ax slicing Alexis' cheek as she takes her first swing. Alexis puts her hand to her cheek and gasps, watching the blood on her hand drip down onto the floors. It's just _oozing_ from her cheek and into her hair, mingling in with her ginger locks. Adira smirks and swings again, the blade catching Alexis just under her ribcage.

Alexis screams, smashing her sword into Adira's left arm. It sinks in with a satisfying shatter of what seems to be Adira's arm, sending Adira spiraling down onto the floor. Alexis remains standing, but her sword soon slips out of her hands and down onto the floor, clattering harmlessly next to the wall. Then she collapses, the deep wound bleeding rapidly. Something's broken in there. She can feel it. It's getting more difficult to breathe.

Adira struggles to get up, settling for smashing her fist into Alexis' face. Alexis can feel her nose buckling from the punch, more blood spilling onto her shirt and down onto the floor. Her shirt starts to turn crimson, the blood soaking the shirt as she continues to try to get up. But her chest hurts so much…

Adira drags herself to Alexis' sword, her ax having fallen down the stairs and to the next turn. She grabs the sword and pushes herself up, screaming as her arm touches the wall. It leaves a crimson mark on the wall as Adira hobbles towards Alexis, buckling because of the pain.

But Alexis can't get up.

Adira looks down at Alexis, her lip curving upwards to what seems to be a smile. But it's not a sneer of satisfaction, it rather seems to be a quiet whisper of relief. "You were a good fighter. It's too bad you have to go out now."

And she swings the sword into Alexis' stomach.

 _She always had been a good girl. She had fun with her friends, giggling with them as they ran through the streets and being the first to help if any of them tripped and fell on the pavement. They hadn't minded that she was the daughter of the mayor. And she hadn't minded either. Life was simple when she was young. It had always been simple._

 _But when Mother and Father were executed by the Capitol for high treason, everything had changed._

 _She and Roman had run into the streets, hiding, always hiding in those streets of shattered glass. And when the bombs came down and the Capitol declared the Hunger Games, they had been safe. They had always been safe. Until they entered the orphanage._

 _Roman had been chosen quickly by a peacekeeper, one of those who had killed her parents, who had claimed to always want a son. He had left the orphanage with Roman at his side and a smile on his face, but Alexis didn't trust him. She had crept out one night to find the man, only to find Roman's body on the pavement, his shattered body looking up at her._

 _Another Telle had vanished into the wind._

 _There were never any inquiries from the Capitol. They hadn't cared that she had lost Roman, her only brother, her only family in the world, and she had rotted in that orphanage until she had started sneaking out at night. She had found a job, working in the mines of Two, burying herself in work to forget Roman. But he had never left her mind entirely. She always thought of that, fat, ugly, monstrous peacekeeper as she had smashed pickaxes into the graphite. So when she had found out that he spent his nights in the streets of broken glass, she hadn't hesitated to kill him._

 _It was ironic that the one the peacekeeper had overlooked was his own murderer._

 _A life for a life._

She gasps one more time, her vision clouding rapidly as she closes her eyes. She doesn't want to see Adira as her last vision. She'll focus on her memories, her life instead. Maybe someone will remember the Telles for her. Maybe they'll tell stories of the brave Syrio, the just Valerie, and the innocent Roman.

And if she's lucky, they'll tell stories of herself.

She whispers a name out into the wind, just low enough for the Capitol microphones to miss it altogether before her cannon booms. People in the Capitol would fret over her last words, wondering if it was something relevant or something about Adira. But they'll all be wrong.

That's because her last word is Alexis.

 **Why am I crying?**

 **Seriously, this was a really emotional chapter. I feel like we got to really see Alexis in the end, and her death felt so heartbreaking to me. Also, poor Emmett managed to get himself killed.**

 **Yep, I went with two character deaths! And now we only have Adira, Sidney, and Ashira to focus on :O**

 **8th: Emmett Lightway, District Three Male, killed by Adira Hemlock and Alexis Telle.  
7th: Alexis Telle, District Two Female, killed by Adira Hemlock.**

 **Emmett - iridescenteverdeen, you probably aren't around to read this, but Emmett was fun. His relationships with Hallie, his refusal to kill, his observations, all were great to write. I struggled with him a bit in the arena, but I do like how he turned out, even if we couldn't get a really clear focus on him. I hope you're pleased with the way he was portrayed!**

 **Alexis - LongingForRomeo, Alexis was amazing. I was originally iffy about her due to her backstory and personality, but ended up really liking her and the way she worked. Her intro was probably the most exciting, with that fun death, and she proved to both get over her family's death… and not as well. I really did cry at her death though, and will miss her. RIP.**

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 **Sponsor System**

Small food item (Apples, crackers, etc.): 40 Points

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 **And that brings us to the final six! Only a few more chapters before the end of the games, so get hyped guys! I can't wait to bring this story to the fitting end that it deserves, as well as give one of you a character victory! Good luck to those remaining, and good luck to me in hopefully getting a tenth update in a row out tomorrow :))) I'm so close, guys! Wish me luck ;) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	24. Arena Night IV: Downpour

**Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female**

She yawns as she walks along the plains of the arena, watching the group of elephants trumpet for joy as they wash in the cool river. They're not afraid of the crocodiles in the river, instead splashing around the river and carefully herding the baby elephants away from their dangerous predators. They soon finish up and walk out of the river, the youngest elephants running circles around the older ones and seeming to smile with mischief. Some of the older elephants seem to huff with annoyance at the little ones before walking faster, keeping pace with their children. They act almost like humans, their actions seeming so deliberate and intelligent to Ashira.

Or maybe humans act a little more animalistic than they would care to believe.

She fingers her knife, watching it dance around her palm before stopping as she clenches it tightly. She's grown to feel secure with her knife. It doesn't give her the same apprehensive feeling that she had the first time she picked it up from her parachute. It's her own now.

Ashira laughs slightly as one of the baby elephants runs close to her, trumpeting inquisitively at her before she jogs out of the way. The baby runs back to its mother and trumpets again, the mother watching Ashira with anxious, protective eyes. It's a good thing that she had gotten out of the way.

The elephants march away and Ashira is alone again, with the sun starting to set on the horizon. She should try to get back to her tree. Maybe the giraffes will still be there. She'll feel safer there with the beautiful, lanky beasts. She still doesn't know where the remaining lions went after their initial encounter, and she doesn't want to find out. She just wants to get to the next day. She wants to make it to Day Five.

She's almost there. She knows there are only six tributes left, she heard two cannons this morning. But who the cannons were, she has no idea. But it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that there are only five other people in this huge, vast arena with her.

She looks into the distance, putting her hand over her face in order to see past the huge, orange sun that's currently setting in the large sky. Dark, heavy clouds are starting to form at the edge of the arena, a large rumble promising rain tonight. She's going to have to stay in her tree for the night if she wants to stay dry. A wet outfit only promises illness, and illness, death.

She starts to jog towards her tree, seeing the beautiful giraffes still sagely chewing on the leaves. She smiles and twirls a little, caught up in the scent of the plains before a rainstorm. It feels exciting. It feels like something's about to happen.

The first drops start to slowly fall onto the ground, splashing against the dust of the plains and sinking slowly into the ground. She runs a little faster towards the tree, gripping her knife in her hand tightly. She's not going to get caught in the rain tonight.

She stumbles slightly on one of the roots from her tree, almost falling face first onto the ground. But she quickly regains her step and keeps on running, quickly getting to the trunk of the tree and starting to climb. But then she pauses, gazing up at the top of the tree. There's another girl up there.

Ashira backs away, watching the terrified face of the older girl. She can see a glint of shining metal in her hand, and the shadows of the tree only highlight her desperate face. She should run. She should hide.

No.

She's not going to hide.

She's going to fight.

Ashira scrambles up the tree, onto the other side of the girl, and slashes with her knife at the tribute. The girl screams and pushes her sword at Ashira, hitting the side of the tree. Ashira kicks the sword down and stabs at the girl, grazing her left leg. But the girl fights back this time, pushing Ashira out of the tree into the air. Ashira grabs the girl's arm and falls, feeling the wind against them as they crash into the… water?

There's at least a full inch of water on the ground as Ashira falls out of the plains, the newly forming mud staining her outfit and choking her throat. She sits up and coughs it all out, trying to regain her breath. She had hit the ground hard, hard enough to get the breath knocked out of her.

And nothing's more terrifying in this arena than feeling like she can't breathe.

She finally manages to take a full breath of air, standing up and gazing at the other girl. The water is pouring around their feet from seemingly nowhere, the nearby river frothing with the excess water. It's a flash flood. But it's not any ordinary flash flood. It's being made by the game makers, and that makes it even more dangerous.

The girl launches herself at Ashira, pulling at her hair and scratching her wildly with her nails. Ashira steps back, overwhelmed by the girl's onslaught. But when she feels blood dripping down her cheek, she punches back, hitting her in the neck and turning to the side so the girl can't hit her in the stomach. The girl keeps punching, her fists hitting Ashira's shoulder and ribs. Ashira pushes her away, knocking the girl into the rising water. She starts to run away, back to wherever she can find higher ground. She doesn't trust the tree anymore. She needs to find somewhere else.

She splashes through the knee-deep water, racing towards the solid hotel. It shines like a beacon in the darkening night, beckoning all of the tributes to the safety of its walls. It's a sanctuary.

She can see other animals running through the waters to her sides, all trying to make it to the hotel. They all want to get out of the water. The giraffes who had grazed under her tree were galloping through the water at her side, their long necks bobbing in the air as they continued to gallop towards the hotel. One stumbles in the water and brays for help, the other grinding to a halt and turning back to help it. With a scream, Ashira remembers the crocodiles in the water, and she runs all the faster. She can't get caught. She can't! She can't!

The girl is still behind her, running as fast as she can in an attempt to catch Ashira. But Ashira won't let her get ahead of her. She's got to keep running. Even as she feels her ankle wrench in some hole, she doesn't stop her terrified sprint towards the hotel. She can see the remainders of the pride of lions sprinting ahead of her, one of the lions roaring desperately and carrying a tiny cub along with it to the hotel. She gasps, almost tripping over herself as she veers to the right. She doesn't want them to notice her.

But will anything really notice her when they're trying to get away from the water?

The girl behind her roars in pain as an elephant knocks her over, sending her splashing into the thigh-deep water. They aren't really able to run anymore, just wade. All they can do is wade and hope that the crocodiles don't find them first. She knows that the herd of strange creatures are still behind her and that they could provide ample food to the crocodiles. As long as none of them go further ahead, she'll be fine.

An elephant goes crashing down into the water, braying desperately as it's trunk is pulled into the murky liquid. A crocodile's managed to catch it.

She looks over her shoulder to see the giraffe lying still in the water, the crocodile that had grabbed it chomping down on its neck. The other giraffe has given up, running madly towards the hotel.

Her tears spill down her cheeks and into the waters as she keeps running.

She trips over a rock and goes facefirst into the water, inhaling water and choking it out. She madly pushes herself back up to the surface, gulping in deep breaths of air as she gets back up and continues to run. She's almost there. Only a few more steps, and she'll be only feet away from the rocks surrounding the hotel.

She trips again, the water pulling her in, away from the hotel, away from _survival_. Terrified, she claws her way through the water and grabs one of the huge rocks at the side of the hotel. She pulls herself up, standing on the top of the rock and taking deep breaths. She's almost there. She's almost there. She's shivering madly from the water, and she feels so _filthy_ , with the muddy water seemingly everywhere on her body. But then she screams, falling into the water and struggling to get back up. The girl's pushed her in.

Ashira claws at the hands of the girl, trying to push herself back up to air, to life. The girl is holding her head under the water, refusing to let go. She's being drowned.

Ashira lets herself go to the bottom, pretending to be slack so that the girl thinks that she's almost gone. She can hold her breath for a little longer… just a little…

And she pushes back up, the girl having loosened her grip. Ashira punches the girl in the nose, the nose seeming to smash back into the girl's face. And then she remembers her knife.

Ashira stabs her in the neck, a quick, deep cut that sends the girl falling back into the water. Her cannon sounds quickly and Ashira gags, stumbling away from the spot where the girl fell before the crocodiles pounce on her corpse. She stumbles her way into the hotel, standing in the flooding lobby. But she's in. She's safe.

And she just killed a girl.

She dry-heaves on the floor, saliva falling from her mouth and into the water before she's able to re-compose herself. She'll be fine. She'll be fine. She just has to keep moving. Getting to the top is all that matters now. And maybe, just maybe, she'll forget that she just killed for the first time.

But as she wades her way to the stairs, a massive splash and another cannon causes her to scream. Someone's fallen from the top of the hotel.

 _And she could be the next to fall._

She starts to run up the stairs, other animals running alongside her without even noticing the human in their midst. The animals are too driven by the fear of the water to attack, only racing up the flights to safety. And safety awaits at the top.

They hope.

Ashira stops on the second floor, looking down at the water. Somehow, it's _pouring down_ the stairwell, causing a few of the animals to slip and fall into others on their way down. But she has to get up. She has to get past whatever the source of water is. So she struggles her way up, passing frightened lions and little elephants, trumpeting for their parents.

She almost falls on the fourth floor, slipping on the soaked carpet and tripping down a stair. But the roar of a lion from below is enough to keep her moving, up and onwards to the top. And as she passes the fifth floor, the flooding suddenly… stops. It's only the massive metal door that leads to the roof that's left.

She takes a deep breath and looks back down, down at the frightened animals and the raging water. And then she looks up, listening to the raging storm and what's obviously the sound of fighting tributes. She takes a deep breath, clutching her knife and closing her eyes tightly.

And she pushes the door open.

 **Another chapter! Woohoo! A really exciting one this time around, with two more deaths! We're in the final four guys, and that means that there's one more chapter before the finale ;) can't give it to you that quickly! I hope I gave this chapter justice, it's one of the penultimate ones before our finale, and that means it was fraught with action! What did you think of the two deaths? Were they good?**

 **And now, that means that I am officially retiring the points system. Sorry, but they are all gone. But you can still review! (please keep reviewing lol) Reviews make me happy, and also keep me going towards another update tomorrow ;))))**

 **6th: District Nine Female, killed by Ashira Marlstone**

 **5th: District Five Male, killed by Hallie Vista**

 **Yep, we're crunching down into the final four, and Hallie and Ashira both have a kill to their names now! We'll be focusing on either Sidney or Adira next chapter, so get ready for a big fight! Can't wait to write it, and I hope you all like it!**

 **It'd be awesome if you'd leave a review, especially you lurkers who are excited for the finale! Only one more chapter to go ;))) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	25. Arena Night IV: Attack

**Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male**

He stops at the stairs of the hotel, looking back to see the storm start to beat down onto the plains. The water already is starting to overflow from the river, spilling onto the ground and rising faster than he can imagine. The game makers must be contracting the arena inwards to limit the amount of water needed for this. There had always been water shortages in Two for years after the war, with citizens of the district lining up for miles upon end to get water from the few rivers untouched by the mines surrounding the district. Hills of radioactive leftovers from the mines had leaked into most of the nearby rivers around the main towns of Two, killing hundreds of unaware citizens. But the Capitol had diverted the rivers and removed the water with huge hovercrafts, bringing it to who-knows-where and removing the threat of contamination from Two. He remembers his parents smiling grimly as they returned with iodized water from the stream, his father muttering something about the barbaric practice of having to fetch their own water from the river, for crying out loud! But most of all, he could remember the dry feeling in his throat as he wondered why they couldn't drink the water. He was still naive back then, naive enough to question where the Capitol had taken the water before being shushed by his parents.

Maybe this is where they took it.

He takes a step up the stairs, gazing up to the end of the stairwell. Does he really need to get to the top of the hotel? Does he really need to get to the roof?

Of course, he does. The game makers want a vicious finale on the top of this magnificent hotel, and that's what they'll get. If he doesn't comply, he'll just be another cannon in the wind.

And the wind is howling angrily right now, blowing into the open hotel doors as he starts to climb up to the top. Before he disappears around the first turn, he's peppered with drops of rain and the wind pushing him up. He's choosing the right thing. He doesn't need to go out into the storm.

As he starts to run up, he sees a little girl open a door and hurry up the stairs, looking down at him with wide, calculating eyes before racing up the stairs. He runs after her, fingering the spear of the girl from Eight. He had grabbed it from her after the stampede, tucking his knife away in his shirt. He had needed a larger weapon in future fights. He couldn't rely on his knife and whatever animals were around him to help distract opponents. The spear granted him security. He was finally able to fight with others. He can fight against that ax of the girl from Seven. And he can kill that last member of the pride.

He laughs that he's still keeping the same nickname for the girl, but he finds it comforting to continue to use the same names. It adds a level of comfort to this stress-filled arena. It makes him feel more comfortable with killing them.

And the anonymity makes it easier to forget.

He keeps jogging up the stairs, his muscles slightly burning as he reaches the door to the roof. But he's there, and he takes a small break before entering the final battle. He wants to rest, he _needs_ to rest.

But then he sees the lion bounding up the stairs.

The lion pounces towards him, slamming into the door as Sidney ducks to the side. The lion falls back down the stairs until it reaches the fifth floor, leaping back onto its feet and snarling madly at Sidney. But behind its ferocious teeth, Sidney can see fear written into his face. The lion is afraid.

He throws his spear at the lion, the spear piercing the side of the lion and sinking into the golden fur. Blood starts to drip onto the floor and the lion roars, lurching from side to side as it charges at Sidney once more.

Sidney grabs his knife, aiming for the eyes. It's always the eyes that he's been told to go for on wild animals, Mother had always said it's a weak spot for almost any creature. Take away vision, take away their power.

He stabs the lion in the eye, yelling in pain as the lion bites at his hand. He can feel the teeth sinking into his left hand, piercing pain emitting from his hand.

But then it collapses to the ground and the teeth let go, leaving a shivering Sidney still standing in the stairwell. He looks down at the once-magnificent beast and shakes his head, grabbing the spear and tugging it out of the stab wound. Then he turns around and walks up to the door, reaching with his hand for the doorknob.

But before he opens the door, it opens and _smashes_ into his head, sending him flying down the stairs and onto the corpse of the lion. He yells aloud and reaches for his spear, a feeling of throbbing pain engulfing his head. But as he stands up and looks at the door, he realizes who has knocked him down the stairs.

It's the girl from Seven.

She stares at Sidney with surprise, not even moving as she observes the dead lion behind him. And then she nods, throwing her ax at his face. It's so unexpected, he's almost hit in the face.

But he ducks instinctively and runs at her with his spear, brandishing his weapon and causing the girl to widen her eyes in surprise. She steps to the side as he charges through the door, her foot sticking out just enough to send him flying into the gravel of the rooftop.

He starts to pick the pieces of bloody gravel out of his face as she runs down to her ax, grabbing the weapon and back towards him. But he's ready this time, blocking her attack with the piece of metal. It's when the ax deflects off of the metal shaft and away from him when he's truly grateful for the weapon for the first time. Even though he hasn't used it before, it's managed to save him.

And he'll use that second chance well.

He stabs at her with the spear, missing her as the girl steps to the side and swings again. He jumps away from her and attacks again, smiling grimly as it catches her in the side and pushes her down. But she jumps back up to her feet before he can properly stab her, glaring at him with angry, deliberate eyes.

And he attacks again, just barely missing her and stumbling right by her. It's then when he notices that the girl's arm is bandaged up, the bandages slightly pink from the blood that she had lost. She's weakened.

And he can defeat her.

The sound of a cannon makes both of them jump, thunder rumbling alongside the announcement of another death. And then the Capitol anthem starts to play dimly besides the storm, causing Sidney to laugh through his focus. It was ironic that he was about to be shown the faces of the dead in a battle for his life. But he's not going to pay attention. That's because the girl's just managed to clip his bad leg with her ax.

He yells and stabs at her, landing a graze on the side of her chest. She yelps and steps away, letting Sidney run to the other side of the roof. She follows him slowly but turns around as two more kids spill onto the roof. The girl from Three is being pursued by the boy from Five with a needle, the boy laughing wildly as he chasing the girl. But as he runs, she stops and falls to the ground, causing the sprinting boy to trip over her and land right next to the edge of the roof. And as he stands back up, the girl gives him a hard push in the centre of his chest. That's all it takes to send him spiraling into the dark air, screaming all the way before a _massive_ splash and another cannon sounds into the air.

Sidney looks away just in time to see the girl charge at him again, her ax rising into the air as she prepares to give him a killing blow. But she doesn't know that Sidney is too fast to be struck by that. He leaps away and swings his spear into her side, the shaft of the spear sending her off balance. He stabs her in the leg before she has a chance to regain her balance, rewarding him with a scream of pain. But she attacks before he has a chance to celebrate, leaping on him and swinging wildly with her ax.

He grabs her hand with the ax just before it smashes into his face, the sheer strength of his arm keeping the blade from touching his forehead. But the girl pushes back, and she's _strong_. Inch by inch, the ax moves towards his face. It soon touches his nose, the sharp metal slicing into his skin and causing his nose to bleed. She's almost won.

But he won't let her.

He flips to his side, throwing the girl off of her and into the gravel. He winces as the pebbles dig into his skin, but gets up and charges towards the girl. She stands up slowly and screams as the spear stabs into her chest, Sidney wrenching it out quickly so that the wound won't rely on the spear to plug it up. She falls back down onto the gravel, her eyes staring up at the sky. She nods once as Sidney approaches her, closing her eyes and clenching her fist as the blood spurts out of her.

He slashes her neck quickly, slicing through both of her veins. It's a quick death for the girl. It's the least he can give the one person who had enough strength and courage to volunteer for these games, no matter her motives.

Her cannon booms into the sky and he looks up, seeing the girl from Twelve standing to the side of the roof. Her eyes are wide and she's holding a knife, ready to fight him in case he approaches her next. She'll be any easier kill, thank Panem. He almost lost everything in that fight. But he's in the final three.

He's not going to lose.

A scream from the girl from Three causes him to turn around, watching her hit a _crocodile_ who had managed to get onto the roof wildly as it runs towards the edge. She hits it in the eye as it bites down on her leg, rearing wildly before stumbling at the edge. The two topple down, and nothing can be heard until a cannon booms in the air.

More animals spill onto the roof as he and the girl from Twelve look at each other with nervous eyes, each ready to fight. As the girl takes a step towards him, the animals all run away from the tributes and off of the roof. Splashes can be heard in the water and roars of pain, leaving only Sidney and the girl. And just like that, the metal door slams shut. He can hear the lock click, leaving them trapped on the top of the roof. It's the finale. It's the finale.

He nods towards the girl, and she nods again before whispering something under her lips. They look up at one another, and Sidney quietly counts to three before taking a step towards her. He's ready to fight.

And the tributes charge.

 **I finished another chapter! Yay!**

 **Also, it's hilarious how I've basically sprinted to do the last half of this story in 11 days XD let's see if I can't keep my streak going!**

 **Well, now it means that we're into the finale! Two tributes, two submitters, and only one victor :O I hope I can get the next chapter out quickly, but, seeing as it's a long one due to the finale, we might get it on Friday or Saturday rather than tomorrow. But let's hope for the best! I always try to hope for that in this story XD**

 **4th: Adira Hemlock, District Seven Female, killed by Sidney Fawkes.**

 **3rd: Hallie Vista, District Three Female, killed by crocodile.**

 **Adira - the main antagonist/anti-hero, you were such a fun character. Your serious nature and observance lead to a few big storylines, like the assault on the hotel and Ashira learning more about herself. You were a great character, but you underestimated Sidney. His spy training was too much for you in the end, but you were both worthy competitors. Rest in peace, my first volunteer.**

 **Hallie - OMG you were possibly my fave OC ever! You were so serious and smart, yet you turned out to be flexible as well! The bomb moment and your bluffing of the audience was GOLD, and you didn't deserve this untimely death. I'm going to miss you for a while, and know that you deserved more ;)**

 **And now it's the finale. The next chapter will be structured differently than other arena chapters, with it focusing on the mentors, rather than the tributes. But remember, it's all just a fun story, so don't get upset if your favourite character dies ;) I love both Sidney and Ashira, and they both deserve the best, but only one can win. So, be ready for a great finale!**

 **Also, PLEASE don't skip down to the end to see who wins. I'm putting a lot of work into this story, and I don't want to have the victor revealed like that for you guys. Enjoy that chapter! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	26. Finale: Rejoice

**Falcon Jacobs, 19, District Nine Mentor, Victor of the Fourth Hunger Games**

I groan as I watch my screen go dark, the cannon still echoing into the wind of the arena. It's over. I've lost my second tribute. Harper is dead, and it's thanks to the girl from Twelve, Ashira.

I hadn't expected to get another victory this year. It had been much too soon for District Nine to get another, but Harper had come close. She had managed to hide throughout the Games, watching out for threats and hiding close to the hotel in order to sneak meals from their periodically. She had been close to victory. Until the flood. She had chosen the wrong tree to climb into, and it had led to her death by the crocodiles.

I walk out of my station, a sympathetic nod from Rosanna. She's just lost her tribute, the boy having been pushed off of the roof by the girl from Three. He had been smart throughout the Games, killing the boy from Three and managing to hide in the hotel without getting caught by the alliance that had converged on the hotel a few nights ago.

Or was it yesterday? I haven't slept in a while, and my head is aching from the pills I took to stay awake. I need a nice, long nap now. But no, I've got to go deal with my escort and send little notes to all of the sponsors of my kids, thanking them for their generous donations. I've learned plenty from the President and game makers on how to care for the sponsors. We need to butter them so that they'll return with more money next year, enjoying their newfound influence over the Games. After all, it's the first year the Capitol's truly participated in the Games. They've wanted to see that it's worth it.

I should do that soon. I don't need to forget it with the dozen other things I've got to do, including my memorial to Harper. Her parents deserve a donation from myself for her funeral. It's the least I can do for the tributes that I can't save.

But it won't hurt to watch the Games for a little longer.

 **Rosanna Gould, 20, District Five Mentor, Victor of the First Hunger Games**

I walk over to Falcon, forcing myself to keep awake. I don't need to fall asleep yet. The Games are almost over, after all. The fun's just beginning.

The boy from Two roars as he stabs the girl from Seven in the side, sending her crashing back into the gravel. He stabs again and she falls still, her cannon booming through the room. Maddie gives a bark of frustration and walks over to us, her mood darkening by the second. Falcon looks over at me with a worried glance, and I calm him with a wink. He doesn't know what Maddie's like yet. He's still got to get used to her mood swings, to Clay's flashbacks, and to my nightmares. But he will. After all, he's a victor. And victors don't quit.

So I smile as Maddie stands next to me, her brow furrowed angrily. "How? How did that happen? I actually got someone who _volunteered_ for the Hunger Games, and she goes and gets herself killed by the kid from Two. Dammit!"

I shrug my head, looking over at my darkened screen. "At least your kid didn't get pushed off of the roof by a tiny preteen. That girl's going far if she wins, you know."

Falcon looks over at the screen as Hallie falls into the water, the crocodile still clamped onto her leg as the cannon booms into the air. "So much for Hallie going far."

I shrug, looking at the mentor for Three. Grace walks out of her station and towards us with tears in her eyes, shaking my hand with a firm grip. "I'm sorry you lost your kid, Rosanna. You've been through it all. Only Pollux and Vannili have been here the whole time, and they didn't go into the Games. You deserve a victor."

I pat the ex-rebel on the back, drawing her closer to me. "You'll be alright. Your girl was good, but you can't anticipate things like that. You did the best you could with her."

Grace bursts into tears, looking down at the floor in sorrow. "She-she was such a nice girl - her and Emmett - she didn't deserve to die..."

Maddie nods, mouthing at Falcon and me to leave as she starts to speak to Grace. It's her turn to deal with the Capitolite mentors. I had to take care of the Eight mentors yesterday, and it had taken _hours_ to calm her down. Capitolites could be so… so _fragile_.

Falcon smiles warmly at me, walking out of the door and into the hallway. "I'm ready for a drink. I'm so thirsty after tonight. Do you want to come? I'll pay."

I smile, squeezing his hand and turning towards him. "Sounds like a date, Falcon. You sure your parents are okay with dating an older woman?"

Falcon blushes, his hand going to the back of his neck. "Well- well, I guess… I guess it is… "

I laugh at him, walking into the hallway. "You'll be just fine. We better leave before Grace manages to get us back into the control room."

But it's not Grace who beckons us back into the room. It's the hundreds of animals that spill onto the roof of the hotel and off of the sides.

 **Maddie Fey, 19, District Seven Mentor, Victor of the Third Hunger Games**

I step away from Grace, looking at the hundreds of animals spilling into the water. If you look closely at the screen, you can see the glazed-over look in their eyes. That's when I realize that none of them are real. They're all just programmed by the game makers to die.

Falcon and Rosanna edge back into the room to see the spectacle, Falcon gasping as the lion cubs charge into the air alongside their parents. "Oh, the poor things!"

Rosanna's busy watching the two remaining tributes, both standing still and watching the animals. "The game makers want a big fight, and they don't want any animals getting in the way. The entrance down will be shut any minute now. They don't want Sidney or Ashira escaping."

Seconds later, the metallic clang of the door closing makes us all jump. It's only Sidney and Ashira left on the roof. And they move slowly towards one another, both of them nodding before pausing. I look past them to Adira's corpse and grimace, looking at the peaceful expression on my former tribute's face. She could have gone so far. If it wasn't for Alexis, she'd have won the whole Games. She would have. It had been Two and Three who had messed her chances up from the start. Sidney had blown up the supplies, Hallie had stopped the girls from killing the pair from Three, and Alexis had betrayed Adira in the end.

But I couldn't blame Clay, the poor dear. The man was still in his booth, nervously eating the cookies that Rosanna had made for him after he had confessed that he hadn't left his booth to eat for half a day. He was perhaps the most dedicated of us all to his tributes. After all, we all regretted their deaths and remembered them in our own little rituals, but he had worked the hardest by _far_ to get sponsors for his tributes. Even if the Capitol had been hesitant to sponsor the boy from Two, Clay had managed to get him _painkillers_ for his leg after spending hours on the phone. No wonder the man hadn't eaten anything. He had no time in the day to do so.

Clay shifts in his booth and watches the tributes charge at one another, and I draw my eyes back to the screen. Sidney is currently throwing his spear at Ashira, but Ashira dodges and grabs the ax out of Adira's hands. I smile slightly, watching the lithe girl swing the weapon at Sidney. May she put it to good use.

Sidney gets slightly slashed by the girl and attacks back, punching her in the side before scrambling for his spear. He succeeds, grabbing the weapon and slashing at Ashira. Her pant leg is ripped and her thigh starts to bleed, the blood falling into the gravel. But Ashira doesn't stop, swinging the ax back and forth. It strikes him in the chest and the wound bleeds shallowly, seeping into his shirt.

I smirk, watching the ax back and forth. The boy doesn't know what he's in for. Because from what I can see, Ashira Marlstone has more fight in her than anyone's realized.

 **Clay Wolfe, 21, District Two Mentor, Victor of the Second Hunger Games**

I open my eyes as I watch Sidney's attacked by Ashira once more, sending him sprawling into the gravel of the rooftop. She's found her groove in this battle now, swinging the ax back and forth with confidence and not dropping her focus for an instant. And when Sidney kicks her in the leg as she advances, she falls and moves away from him, regaining her defensive position and waiting for him to attack. The girl knows when to let go. And right now, that's the most important thing she can use.

But Sidney's still going strong, his spear clipping her in the shoulder with his next swing. She's got a few large cuts from the spear by now, and you can see in her eyes that she's feeling the blood loss. If she loses much more blood, she might go into shock.

And if she does, I'll have another victor to take home.

Sidney continues to fight back against Ashira, his spear expertly attacking the girl. He keeps getting small stabs at her before attacking again, his attacks short and sweet. He knows that he can't go for the kill strike yet. He has to weaken her first. And Ashira is starting to weaken, her face turning pale as she stumbles away from him. It's almost over. It's almost over.

Sidney smiles slightly as he hurries towards her, drawing in near to her before he prepares for another strike. But before he can manage to stab, Ashira doubles back and swings her ax into his side.

I groan as Sidney collapses to the ground, his side bleeding heavily as he tries to regain his stance. Ashira's hurried away from him, tearing off a strip of her shirt and tying it around her arm to stop the bleeding. It's a simple yet effective tourniquet, shutting down the possibility that her biggest wound could impede her ability to fight.

Sidney gets back up slowly, but I can see that he's still ready to fight. He's not going to give up just yet, especially when he can still win. His wound is bleeding heavily, but the teen is pushing past his pain to attack once more. He's found his inner strength.

And that can make all the difference in this battle.

 **Pollux Corrinius, 29, District Twelve Mentor**

I curse at Ashira as Sidney gets back up, advancing on her and readying himself for another blow. Why can't she realize that she needs to fight! She could have killed him, but she had retreated! The fool didn't know a chance to win when she saw one. And because of that, I was going to lose my tenth tribute.

Twelve had never done this well in the Hunger Games. The first year, the two shivering, snotty tributes had died early, and the second and fourth had followed the same pattern of Seam children dying early in the Games. A merchant child in the third Games had managed to make it to the top five, killing three tributes and fighting madly with the other tributes in the giant stadium. But she had died in the end, a collapse of a part of the roof burying her with one of the other remaining tributes.

Ashira had said things about her heritage during her time in the Capitol, but I hadn't really cared. If she was half Seam, half merchant, she was still half starving. And I didn't want to waste my time on the girl. Granted, she had shown her worth in the Games tonight, but she had fallen from her heights of strength in this battle. Already, she was starting to crack under the pressure once more, fleeing from the situation instead of standing her own ground.

Sidney attacks again, his spear slamming into the concrete of the door to the stairwell. Ashira wanted to flee back down there, there was no doubt about that. But the game makers would never let her leave now. They wanted blood. Her blood.

Ashira throws her ax at the boy from Two, sinking the blade into his arm. The boy howls in pain and yanks it out, the deep wound bleeding rapidly. She's managed to sink her ax into his bicep.

I look away from the screen, my face turning green. I grab a wastebasket before it's too late, heaving the contents of my stomach into the trash. The wound's too much for me. I can't look at that. Why would the Capitol even air it on screen?

But the boy still fights, the spear remaining in his untouched arm. And he's still swinging just as strong as he has before, nipping Ashira on her side.

I should face it. I'm losing another tribute tonight.

 **Maddie Fey, 19, District Seven Mentor, Victor of the Third Hunger Games**

Rosanna and Falcon are whispering quietly to themselves, darting glances up to the screen every-so-often as they continue to confer. I walk back over to the pair and cough loudly, causing Falcon to jump. "What's so interesting that you don't want me to hear?"

Rosanna laughs, looking back up at the duelling Sidney and Ashira. Sidney's fighting through the pain of his bicep wound, and he's just managed to sink his spear deep into her leg. Ashira's screaming, crying in pain right now as he wrenches it back out, the spear stained with blood. Ashira's blood. "Oh, we're just talking about a date tonight."

I raise my eyebrows, looking at the pair. Falcon blushes again and Rosanna smiles, stepping towards Falcon. "You? Together? Are you pressuring me hooking up with Clay or what?"

Falcon barks in laughter, the water that he was sipping spraying onto the floor of the control room. "Clay's too focused for you. You need someone spicy, Maddie."

I laugh, looking back up at the screen. "Maybe Pollux can heal my needs for a man."

It's Rosanna who can't contain her laughter this time, leaning down towards her knees as she struggles to regain her composure. "The man couldn't love a fly!"

I smirk as Ashira swings her ax again, clipping Sidney in the right shoulder. "I'm probably better off alone. Have fun, lovebirds."

The two smile before focusing on the screen again, Rosanna shaking her head sadly as Ashira is knocked off of her feet and into the wall. "So much violence in these Games. They don't have to fight like this. It could be so much more peaceful."

I open my mouth to protest before remembering Rosanna's Games. Only seventeen hours of mayhem, Rosanna had worked with her ally to fight off other opponents before quietly killing the last remaining tribute, the boy from One. A short Games was all she knew. But Falcon and I knew more. I can see him shivering as he looks up at the screen. He remembers. And so do I.

Sidney yells as Ashira catches him in the shoulder once more, stepping away before attacking again. The two are close to finishing now, both of them panting heavily as they struggle to breathe. The blood seems to be flowing freely from their wounds, trickling down their bodies and into the gravel. The rain has vanished into thin air, leaving only the dark clouds and the raging water beneath the hotel. There's nothing left to distract the viewers from this battle.

Clay breathes sharply from his booth as Sidney shudders, his face covered in blood from his wounds. He's smeared it onto his skin from when he had wiped the rain away, leaving the fearsome marks. He looks a proper warrior.

But Ashira's still fighting, swinging her ax back and forth and moving away from the spot where she had been pinned by Sidney. She's fighting back. I turn to Falcon and Rosanna, snapping them out of their trance. "Bets on our victor?"

"Sidney!"

"Ashira!"

The two look at one another and laugh, Falcon mockingly drawing away from Rosanna. "How could you root for the tribute of Pollux? Shame on you, Rosanna, shame on you!"

Rosanna giggles, looking back up at the screen. "I guess I just like her eyes. I don't know, the girl just has spirit."

"And we want a majority alliance around here. No room for Y chromosomes," I say, and the two laugh. "But seriously, I don't care. As long as they aren't too messed up."

But then Sidney grabs Ashira by the collar and slams her against the cement wall.

 **Pollux Corrinius, 29, District Twelve Mentor**

I gasp in horror as my tribute smashes against the cement wall, her shoulder buckling from the force of the throw. The girl falls onto the ground and Sidney steps away, his eyes gleaming in triumph. But he crumbles to the ground soon after, another wave of pain washing through his body. He's out of commission for the moment.

Ashira's still motionless on the ground, her shoulder starting to bruise already. It looks broken. It's the end for my girl.

I shake my head and look away, watching Clay's reaction in his own booth. He looks surprised as he watches the screen, his hands clinging tightly to each other as Sidney continues to yell aloud. All the boy has to do is get up and stab Ashira, and he'll win. He'll win.

But maybe, just maybe, if Ashira has any chance, she might get up and stab him before he has a chance.

I see her opening her eyes slowly, screaming in pain as she attempts to move her arm. It must be broken, it _must_! The boy had hit her too hard for it not to hurt her. But she's got to get past the pain.

She reaches for her knife slowly, biting her lip so hard that it starts to bleed as she draws it out from her shirt. She can still make it. The boy is still spasming on the ground, attempting to get up. But he does, standing tall in front of Ashira and readying his blow. It's over.

And as he prepares to strike…

Ashira throws the knife, the blade spiraling through the air and towards his neck. It hits directly in the centre, and Sidney falls back before crashing into the gravel. His cannon booms and trumpets blare in the arena as a medical crew races through the doorway to the fallen victor.

A perfect shot.

 **Clay Wolfe, 21, District Two Mentor, Victor of the Second Hunger Games**

I shake my head slowly and walk out of my booth, clenching my fists tightly. It's over. It's over. It's over.

And I've lost another tribute.

I walk towards the rest of the victors, smiling ruefully. "Guess I'm not getting any rest next year."

Rosanna laughs, patting me on the back and bringing me into the circle. "It's okay, Clay. We're all still alone."

"But we've got another now," points out Falcon. "Another one is good."

Rosanna looks up at the screen, watching Ashira being carried out by the medics and away to the hovercraft waiting at the edge of the hotel. "Do you think she'll be okay? That wound looked pretty nasty. I think the bone broke through her skin when she threw that knife into Sidney's throat. It's going to take a while to recover."

A wild screech of triumph comes from the District Twelve booth, and Pollux comes out with a wild, crazed, ecstatic grin. "Yes!"

We all burst out laughing and welcome an ecstatic Pollux into the circle, chatting about the new victor. Ashira was a good addition. Even if she had killed Sidney, she was still good. We all saw what she was able to do. She had earned her place at our circle.

I smile at the rest of the group, squeezing Rosanna's hand as we walk out of the control and into the empty hallway. "Next year, Rosie. Next year."

Rosanna smiles back, punching me playfully. "You'll get one sooner than I will. I haven't gotten any strong tributes yet, even though they're just the sweetest things."

"But when Five gets a good tribute, they get a good one." I wink at her and walk away, letting her walk behind to talk to Falcon. It's almost time for the press conference, and us victors and mentors will all have to face the vicious, excited photographers and reporters, eagerly awaiting a scoop. And this year, Pollux will get the most press surrounding him. It's a bittersweet feeling, watching another smile in delight as they're relieved of their duties, free to move on to other things, while I'm stuck with another death.

But we have another victor!

 **Ashira Marlstone, 16, Victor of the Fifth Hunger Games**

I don't wake up until the sun seems to get into my eyes.

It's so bright in this hospital bed, especially compared to the darkness of that last day in the arena. It's almost too bright.

I look at the room with groggy eyes, the tiring feeling of drugs weighing my eyelids down, and there's nothing I want to do more then fall back asleep.

But as I see sullen Pollux sitting in his chair next to our excited escort, I remember what happened.

I was in the Hunger Games.

I fought in the Hunger Games.

And I _won_ the Hunger Games.

A delicious smile comes to my lips, and I strain to get out of my bed. That's when I realize that I've got a cast on my neck.

Pollux realizes that I've awoken, and he smiles as he walks over to my bed. "Welcome to the land of the living! I knew you could do it, my dear."

I resist the urge to burst out laughing at Pollux, settling for a content smile. My dear indeed! Pollux is happy to have used the phrase 'my dear'. "So… I broke my neck?"

Pollux shakes his head, pointing to the cast. "No, you broke your collarbone. Now don't whine about it, you're lucky to get out. You know, your actions in the final fight almost cost you your arm. The doctors worked day and night for weeks to fix up the skin. You should feel only a slight pain in it."

I look over at my left arm, and, sure enough, a bulky cast decorates the length of it. Signatures from what seem to be the four victors and several mentors adorn the cast, with a tidy little sling attaching it around my neck. Great. Just great.

I try to sit up, but the bed holds me back and I feel a sharp pain in my back. "I guess I'm in here for a while."

"Six weeks, three of which have already been spent in here," Pollux states calmly.

Three weeks? I've been out for three weeks?

Man, Sidney _really_ did me a number.

But I'm alive.

I'm free.

And I'm a victor.

And in the end, that's all I can ask for.

"Thank you, Pollux. Could you close the curtains? I'm feeling drowsy," I state, and Pollux obliges. He leaves the room with our excited escort, letting me float away into my dreams.

But they're not dreams.

They're nightmares.

 **I FINISHED THE FINALE WOOOOHOOOOOOO!**

 **First of all, thank you all for your extraordinary patience. I took a long break during July and most of August for work, and it really helped with mental health about writing and so on and so forth blah blah blah let's focus on the victors eeeeeeeeeeeeee!**

 **I'm high on sugar from my little brother's birthday cake, as you can tell XD**

 **2nd: Sidney Fawkes, District Two Male, killed by Ashira Marlstone**

 **Victor: Ashira Marlstone, District Twelve Female, Two Kills**

 **Sidney - RoadieMcRoadface, I'm so sorry. Sidney was such a great character with a complex background, and he was a very good monologuer for me. Unfortunately, both my canon and this story could not see him as a victor, so he instead became a big threat and one of the bigger storylines in this story. I'm so sorry I couldn't make him a victor, but I guess you can't please everyone. I do hope you enjoyed his arc, and I hope I executed him the best I could. If you ever submit to my stories again, I'll be waiting with open arms ;)))**

 **Ashira - goldie, goldie, goldie. 7 years on this site, and not one victor you had managed to earn. When you first subbed Ashira, I was unaware of this fact, but I really enjoyed Ashira for her complex background. I therefore resolved to do the best I could to complete her story arc, and soon enough, around the train rides actually, I decided that she was my victor! It hadn't changed since then, so you have the satisfaction of knowing I've been building up to her victory for a long time now! I aimed to make her take control of her background and unite her identity, letting her take not one side, but both. I hope this showed in the arena, and it'll definitely show up more in the last chapter.**

 **Well, that's a victor for all of us! Congratulations to goldie, and my condolences to RoadieMcRoadface with one of my favourite characters here. I hope this story has met your expectations, and we've only got one more chapter to go! Woohoo! Let's see if I can't finish it and upload it tomorrow lol XD**

 **Well, I guess that's it. I hope you enjoyed this finale and the arena, and prepare for the finishing touches on Ashira's tale! Until then, TheAmazingJAJ**


	27. Impossible

**Ashira Marlstone, District Twelve, Victor of the Fifth Hunger Games**

It's weeks before she's fit to go back to Twelve.

She's spent much time in the hospital, her collarbone and arm slowly healing and strengthening themselves as she impatiently waits to get up. But strangely, she doesn't want to leave her bed. She wants to stay in the Capitol, not go back to Twelve.

Maybe it's because the nightmares will get worse if she leaves.

She spends her days reading and avoiding any footage of the Games, staying awake as long as she can. She doesn't want to fall asleep. She can't fall asleep.

Pollux brings in visitors from all over the Capitol, including the four other victors. She notes that Rosanna's motherly, fussing over Ashira and helping her with her pillows, while Maddie's blunt and sparky nature brings fire to the victors. But it's Falcon who's truly interesting to observe for Ashira. She notes that he doesn't want to get too close to her, jumping at small sounds and shivering when he greets her quietly.

"My Games were cold," he had told her when she asked if they wanted any cold drinks, instead opting for a steaming cup of coffee. And they were. Falcon had fought in the arena of ice, icicles hanging from his clothes when he was carried out of the frigid sea of ice. She brought back too many memories for him.

Clay was warm with Ashira, talking quietly about how she felt in the arena and reminding her that it wasn't her fault that she had killed Sidney and Harper - names that she had learned from Falcon and Craig. "I know a guy who can help you figure it all out. He's the appointed therapist for all victors; President Ember specifically appointed him after my Games for the position. You feel like you need any help at all, he'll be there for you. Trust me."

She had nodded and smiled, turning over on her side as the victors had walked quietly out of the room. But they were wrong. _Nothing_ , not a therapist, the victors, not even the president could help her nightmares.

Because when she falls asleep, she's torn apart by Sidney and Harper in her nightmares.

 **.oOo.**

The day soon comes where she's allowed to get out of bed, and she fakes a smile as she stands up and walks around unsteadily on her own two legs. She felt safer in the bed. At least she didn't have to care for herself. Now she's all alone.

Pollux monitors her everyday, a worried look on his face every time the doctors come in to monitor her. She willingly submits herself for inspection, waiting patiently and thanking the doctors. Her escort commends her on her manners, saying that Ashira's one of the most respectful tributes she's had the pleasure of escorting. Ashira nods and goes back to her books. She's tired of the neck brace. But strangely, she still wants it back. She wants the security.

 **.oOo.**

A Capitolite comes in one morning and requests to interview her about the Games, a camera crew obediently following the woman around as she seats herself next to Ashira. The questions are short and sweet; Ashira theorizes that Pollux requested the woman to not ask too much about the Games. She answers softly, saying yes, she does like music, and that she had loved the dress that she had started out in the bloodbath, then smiles as the interviewer reveals a row of young girls in the same dress that Ashira had worn, all holding flowers for her.

But then the interviewer asks Ashira about her home life.

"So, are you from the Seam side of Twelve? That beautiful dark skin suggests your heritage, young lady!" the interviewer gushes, pronouncing beautiful 'bee-yootiful' in that high, lilting Capitol accent that she has. Ashira stiffens, drawing her bedsheets closer to her. "I'm… well..."

Pollux steps in for Ashira, his green hair flashing in the lights of the cameras. "Ashira's from both sides of Twelve. We have ourselves a hybrid here!"

The interviewer laughs and Ashira cringes, turning away from Pollux. The rest of her answers are short and blunt, the interviewer realizing that the interview is past its prime. She leaves with a copy the bloodbath dress for Ashira as a present, leaving it inside a beautiful grey box.

She leaves the box shut until she leaves the Capitol.

 **.oOo.**

The train slightly invigorates Ashira, the young victor standing up and walking around her car. The Capitol had graciously prescribed her sleeping pills before she left, and she had dreamed nothing those nights on the train. She had been free from the nightmares. Always the nightmares.

But when Pollux had warned her about the addictive power of the pills, Ashira had flushed the rest of them down a toilet in her bathroom. She wouldn't risk becoming an addict, no matter how bad the nightmares could get.

But she could almost forget them when she steps off of the train and back into Twelve.

Mother and Father had waited for hours at the train station, waiting for the train to pull in and reveal their daughter. Ashira had been worried that they wouldn't be there, that they had forgotten about her.

But when she hurries out of the train and into their arms, her fear is erased.

 **.oOo.**

She eats at their house that night, her grandmother bustling around her as she served Ashira a beautiful home-cooked meal of roast pork. Ashira greedily eats the meal, letting the taste of home slide down her throat. Her parents smile and chat genially with an obviously uncomfortable Pollux, her father obviously poking fun at him with snide little comments that make Ashira smile slightly and her mother blush. But it's good. She's back.

Until the nightmares come again. And it's impossible to get rid of them.

 **.oOo.**

Months pass, and the nightmares don't go away. But Ashira doesn't tell anyone. She just retreats into herself a bit more, trying to stay away from the world. Her parents turn away visitors to their new home in the empty Victor's Village, telling them that Ashira's ill once more. And she is. She's sick with fear of her nightmares.

When the Sixth Hunger Games approach, a wary Ashira walks towards the stage and watches her first tributes get reaped. They're both from the Seam, and the two malnourished, dark tributes shy away from Ashira when they remember that she's from the town. She tries to bond with the pair, but the more she tries, the more they shy away.

When the two die in the first few minutes of the bloodbath, Ashira walks out of the control room. She's not going to talk to the press. She's not going to talk to anyone.

She's going away.

For days through the Games, headlines from the Games are lined up with stories about the disappearance of the fifth victor. Peacekeepers converge on the Capitol and search for days upon end, the arrival of Kaitlynn Spark, the sixth victor, clouded by tabloids publishing morbid theories about Ashira's disappearance. But the theories fade away when a lone peacekeeper discovers Ashira in a dingy music store at the edge of the Capitol, quietly singing along to music playing on the intercom. The fifth victor has been found.

 **.oOo.**

President Ember narrows her eyes at the young victor seated across the table from her, throwing her the headlines of the Capitol's biggest newspaper. "Kaitlynn Spark wins Games while Ashira Marlstone is found once more."

Ashira looks away, her mouth shut and her eyes closed. President Ember sighs, leaning in towards Ashira. "I know how it feels to lose someone, Ashira. Do you need a hiatus from mentoring? I'll give it to you on one condition: that you won't disappear again. We _cannot_ have more headlines like this."

Ashira nods, a bit of light coming to her face. But then it vanishes, and she walks slowly out of the room.

 **.oOo.**

Years pass, and the nightmares are still there. But she doesn't speak about them to anyone. She continues to be polite and calm, but something's different. Ashira's reserved. She's closed off from the rest of the world a little piece of her heart, and she doesn't want to let anyone in.

But when Ashira wakes up with a scream one night, her grandmother walks in and sits down next to her. "Child, you can't hide anymore. You are going to that therapist tomorrow, and that is _final_."

Aline clicks her knitting needles peacefully as her granddaughter nods, getting up out of bed and slowly dialing the number to Jonathan Alexopoulos. She's ready now.

 **.oOo.**

The therapist comes quickly, bringing with him kind words and a triumphant Aline. He sits down next to Ashira and smiles, patting her on the back. "I'm glad you called, Ashira."

She nods slowly, looking away. Her voice is barely more than a whisper when she replies. "Thank you."

Aline shakes her head, clicking her knitting needles together rapidly. "The girl's been like this for years. Tell him about your nightmare, child."

Ashira whispers about her nightmares, trembling when she recounts how Sidney and Harper tear her apart. She always wakes up. Always.

Jonathan nods slowly, scribbling something down on a small notepad. "You say that you've had these for years?"

Ashira nods, shivering slightly as she looks down. Jonathan writes something else down, looking up at the ceiling. "And you had nothing of the sort in the arena, I presume."

Ashira nods again, shrinking into her chair. Jonathan smiles, standing up. "Then you lost something that you gained in that arena in your final fight. And we're going to find it."

 **.oOo.**

They meet for weeks upon end, Ashira crying and shuddering horribly as she talks about the arena. Corey, the lions, Harper, Sidney, all are laid bare for Jonathan. But Jonathan nods thoughtfully, showing Ashira his notes. "You're feeling torn between the arena and victory, unable to choose one side or the other, and it's showing in your nightmares. It's combined with your home life as well, that much is obvious from what happened in your year of mentoring. But, Ashira, you don't have to run away from the situation. You _won_ the Hunger Games, but you left a piece of yourself in that arena."

Ashira looks up at Jonathan, tracing the cream-coloured pages of the notepad. "And I'm never able to leave it. It's impossible."

Jonathan smiles, reaching over to Ashira. "It is impossible to get it out, Ashira. You'll always be stuck in there. The mind is a steel trap, and an event like the Hunger Games won't ever leave it. But Ashira, you forgot that you can choose both sides. Ashira, you can leave that piece in the arena. Because you don't need it anymore."

Ashira gasps, tears spilling out of her eyes. She rocks back and forth, colour returning to her cheeks. And Jonathan knows that she's come back.

 **.oOo.**

Ashira goes to the Hall of Justice that night. The mayor gasps as Twelve's only victor walks into his room, pushing aside the mountain of papers on his desk. "What can I do for you?"

Ashira smiles, pushing her hair out of her face. "I'm ready to mentor now."

 **.oOo.**

The night before the 17th Hunger Games, Ashira walks into her backyard and kneels down onto the grass. Her dark hair spills into her youthful face, and she pushes it away before opening her mouth. And she sings.

She sings for Corey.

She sings for Harper

She sings for Sidney.

She sings for Pollux.

She sings for the Seam.

She sings for the Merchants.

She sings for Twelve.

And she sings for herself.

Mockingjays catch onto the rhythm and echo back, the melody reaching the furthest corners of Twelve. People walk out of their homes and listen to the mockingjays, smiling at the beautiful melody. It sounds like Twelve.

Ashira smiles, colour coming into her cheeks. She's not from the Seam. She's not from the Town.

She's from Twelve.

And she'll never have a nightmare again.

 **Wow.**  
 **What a journey I've taken with you guys.**  
 **Seriously, though, it's been so fun writing this! I've been working on this partial SYOT for over five months now, sometimes woefully neglecting it, and other times racing through it and creating a partially-legible plot! And you know what, guys? I've enjoyed every second of it all. This last chapter might not be perfect (I think it's not very good lol) but it's finally finished.**  
 **First of all, thanks to iridescenteverdeen, LongingForRomeo, and Jailynne for subbing to this story and reviewing it! You guys created really great characters - I honestly loved every tribute in this story - and it hurt to kill them. I hope you enjoyed their arcs!**  
 **Next, a big thanks to TheEngineeringGames for advising me in this SYOT and helping me excitedly spurt out all of my plans for this SYOT. Spoiler buddies forever ;)**

 **RoadieMcRoadface, thanks for staying with me all the way and reviewing as much as you could. Sidney was a great character, and I'm sorry that he couldn't win as well :( I hope that it doesn't affect you too much, and that you might sub to future SYOTs of mine!**  
 **Finally, a big thanks to goldie031 for providing me with Ashira, our victor! I really enjoyed writing her, and having your reviews support me through this story was amazing :)) Thanks so much!**

 **If any lurkers or other followers want to say a few words, a review summing up your experience here would be great! Thanks for reading ;)**

 **I might do another SYOT to follow this up, but, for now, I've got to focus on my other ones! If you want to, follow those ones, and I'll try to get another SYOT up when one of those are finished! So stay tuned ;) For the last time, TheAmazingJAJ**


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